Firebird Scratches, TMNT 100 Themes Challenge!
by Firebird Scratches
Summary: 100 Drabbles based on 100 prompts! :D I am rating these M so that I have the freedom to do as I wish, but I have no idea what each rating will be. I will try to remember to rate each drabble at the beginning. The first is rated K. I may or may not stick to 2012 'verse. If I switch verses, I'll leave an a/n at the beginning :) Cover art by turtle-sketches, 029, "Keeping a Secret."
1. 001 Intro

**TMNT: 100 Theme Challenge **

**(Because I'm clearly a glutton for punishment…oh who am I kidding, it's "funishment." ;) ) **

**001\. intro **

**002\. smile **

**003\. dark **

**004\. light **

**005\. heaven **

**006\. breathe **

**007\. insanity **

**008\. misfortune **

**009\. holiday **

**010\. silence **

**011\. turtles **

**012\. blood **

**013\. gray **

**014\. foreign **

**015\. sorrow **

**016\. happiness **

**017\. under the rain **

**018\. night **

**019\. under the stars **

**020\. hold my hand **

**021\. eyes **

**022\. abandoned **

**023\. dreams **

**024\. teamwork **

**025\. dying **

**026\. childhood **

**027\. deep in thought **

**028\. "Booyakasha" **

**029\. keeping a secret **

**030\. waiting **

**031\. no way out **

**032\. fairy tale **

**033\. magic **

**034\. do not disturb **

**035\. multitasking **

**036\. horror **

**037\. hero **

**038\. annoyance **

**039\. I can't **

**040\. Are you challenging me?**

**041\. mirror **

**042\. broken pieces **

**043\. test **

**044\. heal **

**045\. frozen **

**046\. seeing red **

**047\. pain **

**048\. leadership **

**049\. brainiac **

**050\. joker **

**051\. outcast **

**052\. hothead **

**053\. drowning **

**054\. give up **

**055\. last resort **

**056\. in the storm **

**057\. safety first **

**058\. puzzle **

**059\. solitude **

**060\. relaxation **

**061\. pets **

**062\. imaginary friends **

**063\. obsession **

**064\. relief **

**065\. desperation **

**066\. music **

**067\. courage **

**068\. paranormal **

**069\. things to fangirl over**

**070\. movies**

**071\. support**

**072\. incognito**

**073\. black cat**

**074\. training**

**075\. caves**

**076\. bicycling**

**077\. travel**

**078\. treats**

**079\. guidance**

**080\. green**

**081\. key**

**082\. fight**

**083\. gift**

**084\. backstabbed**

**085\. adventurous**

**086\. curious**

**087\. crush**

**088\. hug**

**089\. winter**

**090\. autumn**

**091\. cherry pie**

**092\. kiss**

**093\. spy**

**094\. exhausted**

**095\. focus**

**096\. worm's eye view**

**097\. bird's eye view**

**098\. sunset**

**099\. mastery**

**100\. celebration**

001\. intro

April felt her heart hammering fast and terrified, beating itself against her ribs like it was trying to escape.

"You okay?"

It was talking.

It could _talk! _

Her head whipped from the Kraang behind her to the hulking green thing in front of her.

It smiled, and extended a hand towards her. As its lips parted, she saw it had a little gap in its front teeth.

It was this, more than anything else that sealed her decision. Later, she would reflect that there was absolutely nothing rational about it. I mean, what difference did something like a diastema make in that kind of scenario? None whatsoever. Totally irrational.

But that little gap in his teeth was so…well, cute. Somehow, it made him seem just a little bit less threatening…a little bit more vulnerable. Just a bit more…

Human. 

She reached out and took his hand.

Years later, she would shudder, chilled to the bone remembering just how close she came to screaming, batting his hand away, and scrambling to her feet, running in the opposite direction - never to know his name. Never to meet his brothers, her family. Never to -

"You okay?"

His words snapped her out of her reverie.

"Yeah," she smiled, "Fine."

He smiled, placed a gentle peck on her hair. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

She sighed, settling deeper into his embrace. He turned down the volume and pulled the blanket closer around them, and she leaned her cheek on his plastron, closing her eyes and allowing the movie they were supposed to be watching to fade into pleasant background noise.

"The day we met."


	2. 002 Smile

002\. Smile

_"Come on, Raph! You have to! It's the rules!" _

_"What rules!? You just made that up, Leo!" _

_"But Raphieeee," Mikey whined, threatening to cry, "It's our very first one! Yer gonna ruin it!" _

_"See? Now you made Mikey cry." Leo pouted. _

_"Mikey cries at everything," Raph grumbled, "He just does it for attention." _

_Leo scowled and kicked Raph in the shin. Raph growled in reply, and readied his tiny fist to retaliate. _

_"Leonardo," Splinter's voice boomed, "Shame on you. Apologize to your brother." _

_Leo hung his head. _

_"Sorry, sensei. Sorry, Raphie." _

_"Hmph." Raph stuck his tongue out at Leo. _

_"Raphael - Donatello was kind enough to repair this camera for us. Don't you want to smile for the picture?" _

_"No." _

_"You're so _mean_, Raphie!" Mikey pouted. _

_"It's okay," Donnie said, smiling shyly, "He doesn't have to." _

_Raph gave his brother the ghost of a grin, in gratitude. _

_"Very well," Splinter said, readying the camera, "Everyone bunch together." _

_"Oo! Let's make it a silly face picture instead!" Mikey piped up, "That way Raphie doesn't have to smile."_

_"Hm…a silly face picture," Splinter replied, thoughtfully, "You mean like…this?!" _

_In an instant, he pursed his lips, stuck out his tongue, scrunched up his rat nose so his whiskers pointed at strange angles, and crossed his eyes. For a moment, there was only silent shock, and then peals of laughter erupted from all four of his sons - right at the exact moment the flash went off. _

_"Hey!" Raphie said, his mouth opening in shock, "You cheated!" _

_"I have no idea what you are talking about," Splinter smirked. _

Raphael traced his fingers across the edges of the faded polaroid, taped in the album. He didn't know if he'd ever smile again.

"Hey," Leo said, gently, poking his head into Splinter's room and snapping Raph out of his reverie, "I saw the light. You okay?"

"Hmm? Yeah. Just…couldn't sleep."

Leo walked over and looked over Raph's shoulder, the picture jogging his memory as well.

"Heh. You never did like to smile for pictures."

"Yeah. I guess…he…he could always make me, though," Raph said thickly, a lump rising in his throat, "Smile, I mean."

Leo sighed, and kneeling behind him, wrapped his arms around Raph, resting his chin on his shoulder. Raph didn't return the gesture - but he didn't push him away.

"I miss him already," he admitted, in a strangled voice.

"I know," Leo sighed, "Turn. We can look together."

Raph brusquely wiped his eyes, and turned the page. Both he and Leo chuckled at the same time.

"Halloween."

"Heh. I forgot about the Mickey ears."

_Huh. Look at that. _

_Still making me smile when I don't want to._

**_"Light up your face with gladness_**

**_Hide every trace of sadness_**

**_Although a tear may be ever so near_**

**_That's the time you must keep on trying_**

**_Smile: What's the use of crying?_**

**_You'll find that life is still worthwhile_**

**_If you just smile."_**

**_\- Charlie Chaplin, John Turner, and Geoffrey Parsons, "Smile."_**

**There is now beautiful fanart for this installment, created by Tumblr user h0w-d0-y0u-d0-fell0w-kids! **

** h0w-d0-y0u-d0-fell0w-kids dot tumblr dot com / post / 158207933419 / firebirdscratches-smile-for-the-camera**


	3. 003 Dark

**I****'****m a sucker for turtle tots tonight, apparently. And this is pretty much the single-most-abused theme in Turtle fandom, but I****'****m going ahead and hopping on the Turtlepile. XD **

003\. Dark

"Pssst!"

Donatello groaned, and rolled over, hoping Mikey would get the idea.

"Pssst! Donnie!"

Donnie sighed. No such luck.

"Whaaaat?"

"There's a monster in my room."

"No," Donnie corrected, wearily, "There's a monster in _my_ room."

"I mean it, Donnie! Come get it!"

Don sighed, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Why couldn't he go ask Raph, or Leo?

_Because I__'__m the only one that still puts up with it, that__'__s why. _

The sooner they got this over with, the faster he could get back to sleep.

He wiped his eyes blearily, and trudged down the hall, Michaelangelo's sticky fingers around his wrist. He must have been eating candy before bed again.

He pushed open Mikey's door, and was surprised, temporarily, to see it pitch-black.

"Why is it so dark? What happened to your night light?"

Mikey was silent.

"Mikey? What happened to y - "

"The bulb burned out," Mikey said, "But I didn't want to tell you because then you would have to go to the junk yard again and you and _sensei_ just got _back_ from the junk yard and before you left you said _'__Okay, anything else? Last chance, speak now or forever _\- "

Donnie sighed heavily, "Okay, Mikey, I get it."

He thought for a moment, and switched tactics.

"Remember what _sensei_ said about the dark?" He recited in a sing-song voice: "_'__The dark is our friend, it hides us from sight, it guards and protects us, in fight or in flight.__'_ Remember?"

Mikey didn't say anything, but whimpered softly.

Donnie groaned inwardly. He was never going to get back to sleep.

"There's no monster, Mikey. Look, I'll show you."

He had taken only one step into Mikey's room, when Mikey grabbed his arm violently.

"NO!" he shouted. There was a muffled snort and murmuring from Raph's room.

"Shh!" Donnie said, raising a finger to his lips, "Everyone is _sleeping_, Mikey!"

"Don't go in there," Mikey whimpered, "You'll get eated."

"_Eaten_," Donnie corrected, wearily. "I'll get _eaten_."

Mikey's lip started trembling.

"Okay, come on."

He trudged down the hall towards the kitchen.

"Are we having a snack?" Mikey asked, hopefully.

"_No_, we are not having a _snack_," Donnie retorted, "It's three in the morning, Mikey. And you already had a snack, didn't you?"

Mikey grinned shyly, and tried not to giggle. "Noooooo."

Donnie rolled his eyes, grabbed Mikey's hand, and abruptly put his fingers in his mouth.

"Ew!" Mikey giggled, "Donnie!"

"Uh-huh," Don said, "Chocolate."

"Maybe a little snack," Mikey giggled.

"Go brush your teeth."

Mikey hesitated, glancing at the hallway.

"The bathroom light is on," Don said, more patiently, "Go brush your teeth and come right back."

Mikey trotted off to go brush the chocolate off of his teeth. Donnie rummaged around in the kitchen drawers for a while until he finally found what he was looking for. It was hard to find them intact, and they really only ought to be used for emergencies…but just one wouldn't hurt.

"Okay, all clean," Mikey announced upon his return, baring his teeth in a broad grin, "Sheeeee?"

"Good job, buddy," Don yawned, "Come on."

Mikey's hand gripped his wrist again, this time cold and clammy from the sink, rather than sticky with candy.

They got to Mikey's door, and Mikey instinctively positioned himself behind Donnie's shell, distrustfully. Don grinned.

"Wanna see some science?" he asked.

Mikey's eyes got a little wider, and he nodded.

Don took the glowstick, and gently cracked it with his thumbs, shaking it as the hydrogen peroxide combined with the diphenyl oxalate and spread throughout the tube. A gentle green glow washed over them, illuminating Mikey's room.

"Ooo!" Mikey grinned, "Pretty!"

"Come on."

Donnie made a big show of investigating all the nooks and crannies of Mikey's room, including checking under his bed.

"See? No monster."

"Yep, you musta chased it away," Mikey yawned, climbing over his mattress and flopping down, "Monsters don't like magic."

"Science," Don smiled. He put the "magic" glow stick in an empty glass by Mikey's bed.

"Okay. I'm going to sleep."

Mikey scooted over so his shell was up against the wall, and held his blanket up.

Donnie turned from the bed to the door debating momentarily, before giving in. Truth be told, the glow stick was kinda cool. He felt sort of grown-up, making the executive decision to use it all by himself, and he wanted to enjoy it a bit longer anyway.

He climbed in next to Mikey and turned to face the glow stick, its cool green light casting shadows on the wall.

"Pretty," Mikey murmured. His breath was warm and minty on the back of Donnie's neck, and his voice was already drowsy with sleep.

"Yeah," Donnie yawned, his eyelids drooping, "It kinda is."


	4. 004 Light

THIS DRABBLE IS RATED M

004 Light

Raph watched Mikey's chest slowly rise and fall as he battled for breath. He was thin - way too thin. All his strong, flexible, springy muscles, honed by years of practice, had already shrunk from inactivity, and now that he'd basically stopped eating, they had further atrophied as his body cannibalized its own tissues for sustenance. He was practically wasted to the bone.

Raph hadn't realized before just how _small_ Mikey was. He'd always been the "little" brother, but…seeing him like this? He was definitely the runt of the litter.

Clutch.

Whatever.

Mikey stirred out of sleep, and smiled wanly to find Raph hovering over him.

"Hey, ugly," he murmured, his voice still gravelly from his fitful sleep.

Raph smirked. "Look who's talkin', skinny. You look like shit."

"Heh. Yep," Mikey agreed, with a lazy grin, "Cancer, huh? Who'da thunk."

Raph shook his head with a grin. "Not the smart bet. Definitely not what I had _my_ money on."

"Oo, is there a pool?" Mikey asked, closing his eyes and smiling.

"Oh, yeah. Leo's pissed…he had you down for 'grappling line snapped.'"

"I'll take some of that action," Mikey grinned, eyes still closed, "Put everything on 'Cancer.'"

"You can't bet, dumbass, it's a conflict of interest. Ya know though, if you want to do me a solid, there's still time to go pick a fight with some Purple Dragons. I won't rescue ya, promise. I'll even split my winnings with you. Oh, wait."

"Heh," Mikey laughed, teeth showing as he cracked a wide smile. "Wouldn't work anyway. Purple Dragons? Come on, even I could still kick _their_ asses."

Raph chuckled appreciatively.

The others didn't _get_ it, couldn't handle Mikey like this. They couldn't keep it together. Leo was a mess: brave, stoic, and stalwart one moment, then all maudlin sap and violins the next…and Donnie was practically Raph-like in his outbursts; long periods of catatonia interrupted by storming off to his lab to cry and work, always work, furiously hunched over slides and microscopes, until he realized it was pointless, at which point there'd be more smashing things and snapping at everyone.

They didn't get it.

_It's not about what we_ need_…it's about what Mikey_ wants.

And what did Mikey want? Same thing he always wanted - to make it all a big joke.

Falling apart? Losing it? That's for later.

For _after._

"So," Raph says, with a smile, "Whatcha feel like doin'?"

"I dunno," Mikey sighed weakly, opening his eyes again to stare at the ceiling. Raph was hurt to see the fatigue and the _boredom_ there. "Eiffel tower, Disney World, watch the sun set, get laid…all that Make a Wish crap."

"Well, I can probably pencil you in a sunset around six-thirty-ish," Raph said, "The rest of that shit ain't happenin'. 'Cept maybe the gettin' laid…I could always twist April's arm, she'd prolly toss you a pity fuck, but Casey'd go - "

"Ewwwwww," Mikey grinned, with a weak laugh, "Not _April, _you sicko! That's like - _incest!__"_

"Hey," Raph said, spreading his hands, "You're the 'sicko' that wanted to get laid today. But I guess if incest is your thing, I could always bite the bullet and think of England - but we seriously gotta put a bag over your head or _somethin__'_, cuz I don't know if I mentioned this? But you are just -_ hideous_. I mean - _damn._ There are limits, man."

Mikey was laughing in earnest, and started to cough. "_Gross_, you a- ha - hasshole! No tha-hanks, yer _boyfriend_ Casey told me you're lousy in the sack anyway."

Raph tutted and shook his head gravely, "You know, that is a very homophobic and _hurtful_ remark, Michaelangelo. I am the best lay that queen ever had and he knows it."

Mikey paused to wheeze, wiping his streaming eyes. Raph patiently waited for him to get his breath back.

"Fuck it," Mikey finally said, "Let's just play some video games."

"Now you're talkin'."

Raph leaned down, and pulled Mikey's sheet off. He tucked one arm under Mikey's legs, and the other behind the top of his shell. Mikey wrapped his frail arms around Raph's neck.

Lifting him out of bed was painfully easy. He had gotten so damn _light._ _April_ probably outweighed him at this point. Raph cradled his little brother to his chest, and felt a savage, defiant love rage hot through his blood, quickening his pulse and tightening his grip. Every cell in his body seemed to be screaming _"__Mine, mine, MINE! You can__'__t have him! Just try and take him!__"  
_  
"I could take the chair, y'know," Mikey muttered, suddenly sounding shy as Raph carried him out to the sofa, "You gotta be tired of dragging me around."

"_Never_," Raph growled, fiercely.

Later that night, around six-thirty-ish, he carried him up the fire escape in the crook of one burly arm, scaling the ladder one rung at a time, so they could watch the sun set from his favorite roof.

"**So on we go****  
****His welfare is of my concern****  
****No burden is he to bear**

**We'll get there**

**For I know****  
****He would not encumber me****  
****He ain't heavy, he's my brother." - Marcus Congleton, The Hollies' "He Ain't Heavy"**


	5. 005 Heaven

005\. Heaven

"Um," Donnie said, looking around the sterile, white cloudscape, "I think there's been an error?"

St. Peter laughed heartily.

"There is no error, Donatello. You are exactly where you are meant to be."

"Yeah, see, thing is," Donnie admitted sheepishly, "I'm pretty sure my family's Shintoist? And me, well…I've been an atheist since I was eleven, so, uh…you should maybe…check again?"

"You think maybe there's another mutant turtle named Donatello I am mistaking you for? St. Peter asked, crooking an eyebrow.

"I…concede that it's unlikely," Donnie hemmed. He looked over beyond the gates. It didn't seem too bad. A few cherubs were splashing around in the pool. A couple dude angels were standing around a barbecue, sipping beers and laughing as one of them prodded some bratwurst. The sleeves of their pastel cardigans were draped over their shoulders. It kinda looked like a catalogue for patio furniture, or maybe one of those vacation camp sites, like for RV's. Only, y'know, with the wings and the clouds and all. Weird. He wondered how they'd feel having a mutant turtle suddenly show up to crash their party, and he was paralyzed with an anxious sense of un-belonging.

"Donatello, did you believe in doing good for the sake of good? Did you try your best to help your fellow man? Were you sorry for the times you acted out of selfishness?"

"Um. I guess?"

"Then we're good to go," St. Peter said, stroking his long white beard, "I'm just going to need you to fill out some forms."

He passed over a clipboard with a blue plastic pen clipped into it. The pen had "Welcome to heaven!" printed on it in flaking white script. Don noticed there was a jar of them on St. Peter's podium.

"What about my brothers?"

St. Peter clucked his tongue sympathetically.

"I know it's difficult to understand now, but I promise you, they'll be along before you know it! That's the thing about eternity, it makes everything else seem really short. The hard part is over now, Donatello. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself, now."

He put a reassuring hand on Donnie's shoulder. For a moment, Donnie felt an arc of searing pain lance through his chest at the contact that almost took his breath away, but as quickly as it came, it was gone again. Donnie gasped, and shook his head, trying to clear it. There was an odd, acrid aftertaste in his mouth.

"The pool's open through mid-September, but you've got to remember to rinse off before you use it - they're actually pretty strict about that. The volleyball team is looking for members, you look like a tall drink of water, I bet they'd love to have you - and hey, it's Taco Tuesday! D'you like Mexican?"

"Uh," Donnie said, wrinkling his nose at the sheet in front of him. He was still distracted by the blinding jolt of pain, already gone without a trace, "Sure."

"Great!" St. Peter said, with a wink, "So if you'll just…"

"Uh…"

Donnie stared at the form, and tried to read it. The letters swirled together in an impenetrable gobbledygook.

It suddenly clunked into place.

"I'm dreaming…"

St. Peter scowled. His beard seemed to swell, like the tail of an angry white cat, crackling with some strange static electricity.

"CLEAR!" he shouted, and assuming flawless posture and technique that would make Master Splinter proud, punched him in the plastron as hard as he could.

"Ow!" Donnie said, dropping the clipboard, "What the?! - "

"CLEAR!" St. Peter hollered again. Donnie watched in slow-motion as the fist came closer and closer, cleaving the air with the ozone smell of eletricity -

He coughed in agony, his chest on fire, dragging oxygen through his rusty, protesting airway like glass shards. Everything was suddenly so much darker. He thought he'd gone blind, for a second, but as his eyelids fluttered he saw the grimy, dingy brick walls of his laboratory.

"_He__'__s back!_" a voice was saying, ringing high and tight with desperation, "He's back, he's _back!_"

"Mikey, the mask!"

Donnie continued to hack and wheeze as a plastic mask was fitted over his face. Stale, plastic-tasting air puffed into his face.

"Whuh - wh…"

"Shh," Leo said, conversationally, his eyes still over-bright, "Don't talk yet. Thought you were just gonna sneak out on us, huh?"

Donnie groaned, as memory began seeping back into his brain, like a thirsty sponge. The Foot…they'd gotten a jump on them, and he'd…

He felt a firm pressure on his leg - they must have already wrapped it up…maybe even stitched it already. He hoped Raph had done it…Leo was good at a lot of things, but Raph had a steadier hand with a needle, having stubbornly insisted on patching himself up more often.

He glanced down at the tubing leading into his elbow. Raph sat across from him with a tube leading out of his arm as well, though his was draining into a red plastic pouch. Wait - no - the pouch was clear…it was…

His stomach roiled uncomfortably.

Raph grinned weakly, a queasy expression on his face as well. He was a slightly paler shade of green than usual.

"Just whippin' you up a fresh batch," Raph nodded at his arm, "You almost finished that one already. But don't get greedy, that's all you get for a while."

Donnie's arm ached painfully, and he saw a large, blotchy bruise forming around the IV.

"Yeah, sorry," Leo laughed, his voice still high and tight. He pushed the crash cart back into the corner of the lab, and then returned to his side, checking his pupils for dilation, "I'm not nearly as good as you are at finding a vein…took me forever."

"No kidding," Raph mumbled, blanching as he glanced at the crook of his elbow and quickly darted his eyes away again.

"You okay, bro?" a soft voice puffed in Donnie's ear.

Don looked up into Mikey's soft, baby-blue eyes, wide with fear and love, framed by his orange mask and the apples of his pale green, freckled cheeks.

Don grinned reassuringly and gave Mikey a weak nod.

Now this - safe at home with his brothers - this was heaven.


	6. 006 Breathe

006 Breathe

"Hey buddy," Mikey said, casually, as if this were a regular get-together, "How ya doin?"

Leatherhead's already massive chest was heaving with great, gasping breaths, his limbs trembling with barely-contained fury. His vision swam red, and Michaelangelo's voice seemed to come to him from a great distance, like the toll of a faraway bell. He was in full fight-or-flight mode, and years of experience had taught him the hard way - flight is futile. He braced himself for the searing agony of the Kraang's shock-sticks, for the hissing burn of pink lasers…

"So, I'm gonna need you to put down my bro, 'kay?" Mikey asked, reasonably, as if asking him to please pass the salt, "Is that cool?"

Leatherhead flinched in terror as Mikey touched his arm, but allowed him to gently guide it down to his side.

"Theeeere we go."

He gently pried Leatherhead's thumb away, and started working on each of his fingers.

"This little gator went to market…this little gator stayed home…"

There was a sudden gasp of air that made Leatherhead jump again, and Donatello's face emerged from his grip, coughing and panting.

"No," Leatherhead moaned, shame twisting in his gut, "No!"

He hunched over, and wrapped his arms around his torso, and sank to the floor. He wished it would swallow him up, like quicksand.

"Hey, it's all good," Michaelangelo said, soothingly patting his shoulder, "Nobody's hurt. No harm done."

Leatherhead looked up. Mikey's blue eyes were full of patience - but Donatello eyed him with a reddish-brown scowl. And how could he possibly blame him? How could he possibly even explain himself?

It had been that way from the very first time they had met…Leatherhead wasn't good with strangers to begin with, but the way the one with the purple mask had looked at him, the expression in his face…an expression of…

Curiosity.

_Scientific _curiosity.

He immediately recognized it, and it turned his guts to boiling liquid and everything faded away in a dull roar because that look meant _pain_, _pain_ was coming, and _humiliation_, and -

"Come on," Mikey encouraged, snapping him back to the present moment as he stroked his shoulder soothingly, "Deeeeeeep breaths."

He inhaled noisily through his nose, and let it out on a "shhh" noise.

"Just like that."

Leatherhead tried to mimic Michaelangelo's breathing, but it just came out as a terrifying death-rattle of a growl when he did it.

"There ya go!" Michaelangelo said, with a sunny smile, seemingly oblivious to the obvious danger.

Nonchalantly, he crawled right up into Leatherhead's space. He felt a stab of fear.

_No! Get away from me! It__'__s not safe, I__'__m - _

But Michaelangelo just casually wrapped Leatherhead's arms around him and cuddled up to him trustingly.

"Here we go," he said, cheek pressed soothingly against Leatherhead's chest, "And in?"

He inhaled noisily through his nose again, and Leatherhead complied.

"Shhhhhhhhhhh…."

They released their breath together. Leatherhead finally felt his third eyelid retract. He blinked a few times and scanned the room. Donatello was still looking wary, but unharmed. Raphael had shifted to stand slightly in front of him. Leonardo casually sheathed his swords and gave him a polite nod. He hadn't even noticed he'd taken them out.

"My friends, I…"

Leatherhead hung his head in shame.

"That was_ awesome_, LH!" Mikey beamed, sitting up out of Leatherhead's grasp.

Leatherhead blinked in confusion. _Awesome?! _He'd almost destroyed them all _again_ \- almost crushed his brother's skull like an eggshell. He was broken, dysfunctional, a true monster, how could he possibly think anything about him was "awesome?!"

"You did a great job!" Mikey insisted, patting Leatherhead on the shoulder again, "You mellowed out, like, super-fast this time! You are getting better and better every time we see you, dude!"

Leatherhead's eyes flicked away from Mikey's to Donnie's reddish brown ones, still slightly suspicious. But when Leatherhead made eye contact, he smiled awkwardly, and gave him a jerky little nod of encouragement. He felt hot tears stinging his eyes.

"Do you really think I'm getting better?"

Donnie's eyes darted away and his grin became a bit stiffer. But Michaelangelo replied for him immediately.

"_Totally_, dude! You're doing super-great. Come on, one more."

Leatherhead felt the hard knots of fear in his chest loosen slightly as he and Mikey drew another deep, noisy breath through their nostrils.


	7. 007 Insanity

**A fluffy/silly one for n00btmntfan, to make up for Chapter 4 ;) **

007 Insanity

"Come on, slow pokes!" Mikey panted, jack-knifing into his umpteenth burpee, "No surrender!"

"This…is…_insane!_" Donnie was panting as he failed miserably to keep pace.

"No duh, bro, that's why they call it _Insanity_!"

"How…can you….even…_talk!?_"

Even Leo and Raph had dropped the banter and were grunting with exertion, finding it a challenge to keep up with the rapid-fire calisthenics. A loud whistle blew from the TV. The guy on the screen was screaming at them to transition to jumping jacks.

"Jumping jacks!" Mikey echoed, crowing in what he thought was a highly motivational way, "_Ichi! Ni! San!__"_

"Shut…up!" Raph groused, wiping sweat from his eyes with a forearm.

"Whass'matter…Raph," Leo panted, "C-can't…can't keep…_oh God_."

He slumped over for a moment, his hands on his knees.

"I'b gudda puke," he groaned.

"No - puking - in the - dojo!" Mikey panted, as he continued his jumping jacks, "Come on, Lame-o-nardo, almost done!"

Reluctantly refusing to admit defeat, Leo resumed jumping jacks, only to have Raph collapse in a pile next to him moments later.

"Ungggh," he groaned, wordlessly from the floor.

"Twenty eight - twenty nine - thirty - _done!_" Mikey crowed, feeling like he'd just drank three of Donnie's coffees, "_Woot! Yeah! Alright!_ Get it, _get it!_ Like a turtle _do_!"

Donnie sagged to the floor, dropping first to his knees and then flopping face-first with his butt in the air.

"I think my shell fell off," he mumbled into the floor, not bothering to lift his head.

"Nope," Mikey panted, as sweat rolled off him in waves, "Still there. And hey - Donnie and I totally kicked your butts. Take _that_, 'A Team!'"

"No fair," Raph grumbled, wearily raising an arm to point an accusatory finger at Don, "He was goin' way slower!"

"Pretend I'm giving you the bird," Donnie mumbled into the floor, "I can't lift my arm right now."

"We don't even _have_ the bird," Leo said, waggling his fingers.

"Never…stopped me. S'all about….context…Ugggh," Raph groaned as he removed his sopping wet mask and tossed it aside. It slapped wetly on the mat.

"Oops…stretching time," Mikey said, as the figure on screen started a series of dynamic stretches, "Come on gang, don't wanna get a -

"_Gaaah_, cramp, _cramp!_" Leo groaned, massaging his thigh as he leaned into a stretch, "This can't_ possibly _be good for you."

"That is the last time we let Mikey buy anything off an infomercial," Raph moaned.


	8. 008 Misfortune

**Spoilers, IDW #44 :( ****  
**  
008\. Misfortune

He had known pain before.

He had known loss before.

The wheel of fortune was always turning - yet it seemed to Splinter that he and his sons were always at the extreme rim of that wheel…their highs impossibly high, their lows devastatingly low.

Yet nothing, nothing, nothing had ever - could ever -

He sank slowly to his knees, reached with hands made tender by a father's love. He cradled his beautiful, brilliant son's head in his lap…that remarkable mind, now still and eternally silent.

"My son," he choked, his chest caving in misery, "My poor, brave son…"


	9. 009 Holiday

**2007 Verse**

009 Holiday

"Ugh!" Raph stretched, blinking at the blinding light, "Finally! Fourteen hours in a shipping crate with this one."

"Pfft, whatever, Captain Grumpy Gas. Seriously, what the hell did you eat before they shut us in there? Ya _nasty._"

Raph raised a fist to pummel Mikey, but winced at the crick in his neck and rotated his shoulder a few times instead. April giggled and stepped into Mikey's waiting arms, giving him a warm hug, as with a wrench, Casey undid the shipping crate containing Donatello and Splinter.

Donnie emerged from the crate yawning and stretching, as though he'd just had a pleasant nap.

"Well somebody had a nice trip," Casey joked.

"Tranquilizers," Donnie said, removing a little orange bottle and rattling it before stashing it back in his belt, "Haven't slept so good in…ever."

"And I have not enjoyed so much uninterrupted silence in nearly two decades," Splinter added, smiling at April, "Hello, Miss O'Neil."

April smiled, and bowed. "Sensei. Well, this is definitely the spot, but we haven't seen - ah."

She interrupted herself as Leo melted silently out of the edge of the clearing, carrying a big plastic jug of water. She saw now why they had called him the _Ghost_ of the Jungle. The leaves had barely swayed as he moved.

"Leo!" Mikey cried, joyfully. He dashed over, flung himself into Leo's arms, and immediately stepped out of the hug to bounce up and down on his toes. "_Wedidit, wedidit, wedidit_, we're really _here!_ We're on _vacation!_ And it's not the _farmhouse!_"

"That's for sure," Donnie said, tenderly cupping the frond of a plant in his hand and examining it, "This place is _incredible!_ I never thought I'd - _oo!_ _Agalychnis callidryas!_ Quick, where's the camera?! Mikey, was it with the - Aww, he jumped."

April giggled. Well, someone would enjoy this trip.

"Ugh, it's like breathin' soup out here," Raph said, a thin sheen already filming his skin. He sniffed suspiciously. "Air smells all…weird."

"That's because it's _clean_, Raph," Leo said, with that teasing, soft smile April loved to see so much. "Here, drink up. You're probably dehydrated." He handed Raph the water jug. He took a long pull, and passed it to Mikey.

Leo turned to Splinter, and bowed deeply.

"Father."

"Leonardo, my son. How did the journey pass for you?"

"Uneventful, _sensei._ I watched over you, mostly read. Once we were landing, I scouted ahead to set the GPS marker. I see you all found it okay."

He smiled, answering before his father could ask.

"And no, I wasn't _seen_."

"I know that," Splinter chided, "I wasn't even going to ask."

But April could tell this news had relaxed him a little.

"I wanna go swimming!" Mikey begged, hopping up and down, "Can we go swimming, Leo? _Canwe canwe canwe?__" _

"Watch out for candiru," Raph teased, "Right Donnie?"

Mikey's expression betrayed a little nervousness.

"What's a candy roo?"

"_Vandellia cirrhosa!_ Also known as the Toothpick Fish! It's a parasite," Donnie supplied, enthusiastically, "A blood-sucker! Similar to a leech, but in a totally different phylum - "

"It swims up your junk and _bites_ ya," Raph supplied, with an evil grin. He chomped his teeth in Mikey's direction with a clack. Mikey winced and automatically crossed his legs.

Leo laughed freely, and April's breath caught in her throat. Leo didn't laugh all the time, unless it was a wry snort…he very rarely let his guard down, and when he did, his true personality shone through - you always felt like you were receiving a rare gift. Something about this place did something to him, made him seem freer, more…himself.

No wonder he hadn't wanted to come home.

"That's an urban legend, Raph," Donnie said, in a long-suffering tone, "There's little to no documentation of any such behavior."

He fixed Mikey with a playful grin, "Now piraña, on the other hand…"

"There's a clear stream by camp, it should be safe to swim. At least, I never had any problems with _candiru_," Leo teased, "And piranha are only dangerous in the dry season."

"Wait - so there_ are_ piranhas?!"

"It's about a kilometer west…we can set up camp there. It's a little too exposed here. Hope you're ready to stretch your legs!"

"A 'kilometer?'" Raph repeated, sarcastically, "You wanna say that in the King's English? Or do I need to break out a slide rule?"

"Actually, most of the world uses the metric system," Donnie piped up, "It's really a lot more - Darwin's beard! A scarlet macaw! _Mikey_, find the _camera!_"

Casey startled April by wrapping his hands around her waist from behind and planting a squelchy kiss on her neck.

"Casey!" she blushed with a glance at Master Splinter, trying to push his arms a little lower, away from her boobs.

"Y'know, this is our first real vacay together," Casey murmured in her ear, "Other than the farm, I mean."

"Sheesh. Get a tent," Raph ribbed. April felt the heat in her face increase, as Casey goaded Raph by making loud kissy noises in her ear.

"Are you happy to have returned to this place, my son?" Splinter asked. His fur was already fluffier in the humidity, and April resisted the sudden urge to giggle. His face was all poofy.

Leo closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose, and turned his gaze up to the treeline, dappled sunlight playing across his face. Happy wasn't even the word for it - he looked completely at peace, like the weight of the world had suddenly dropped from his shoulders. It was an almost foreign expression on Leo's face. But the moment was gone as quickly as it arrived. He turned his gaze to his brothers, settling on Raphael, who was regarding him with a suspicious, somewhat guarded expression.

"It's nice," he admitted, "Mostly I'm happy that I finally get to share it with you."

April noticed that "you" could easily be interpreted as plural, including the whole family - but he held Raph's gaze as he said it. Raphael looked a little less sullen, the ghost of a smile creeping over his features, and April understood that this was more than just a family vacation, it was a chance to finally heal some old wounds for good, to close the book on a time marked by separation, hurt, and misunderstanding.

"Okay!" she announced, swiftly breaking out of Casey's grasp. She unzipped her fanny pack and took out her own camera, "Everybody bunch together!"

They obliged, cheerfully, Mikey and Leo getting on one knee in front, while Don and Raph flanked Splinter on either side. Leo flung his arm over his little brother's shoulders, and Mikey looked up adoringly, lapping up the easy, unrestrained affection like only a little brother could. Even Raph put a hand on Leo's shoulder for the picture.

Yep - this place was already doing good things for these boys.

"Here," Casey said, plucking the camera from her hands, "You should be in it."

"But - "

"Yeah, come on, April!" Mikey enthused, patting the grass in front of him.

"I'll be in the next one," Casey promised, prodding her forward, and giving her a swat on the rump for good measure.

"Oh, okay."

April flung herself down in the grass lotus-position between Mikey and Leo, resting her arms on their knees like armrests.

"Say _'__Biodiversityyyyy!__'_" Donnie chimed.

The camera flashed just as April was laughing.


	10. 010 Silence

**Rated M for Raph's potty mouth.**

010 Silence

"Hmph. So that's it, then, huh? You got nothin' to say? No lectures for the stupid, reckless hothead? You ain't even got a quote for me from your stupid Space show? Pfft. Some leader you turned out to be. Run off, no plan, and get your ass handed to you. Real slick. Way to save the day, Fearless."

Drip.

"Y'know I could run off half-cocked right now and do somethin' reeeeal stupid. Right? Hey, nobody here to stop me. See? Bet you didn't think of that. That's downright irresponsible, s'what that is. Ain't that your favorite word? 'Irresponsible?' Hmph. And who's supposed to deal with Mikey when he's sad? 'Cuz I…I sure as hell don't know what to…what do I _say_, Leo? Tell me that, huh? What the hell am I supposed to say?"

Drip.

"Who's gonna make Donnie eat? D'ja ever think about that? Cuz he sure won't do a damned thing_ I_ tell him to. Heh. Guess you know what that's like. Yeah, I bet you like the sound of that. Turn-about is fair play, huh? Yeah, well. You can stop enjoying it any time, now. Okay? You had your fun."

Drip.

"_Come on,_ Leo. I know you hear me in there, you little - This? This right here? Big, fat, epic fucking fail, Leonardo. No honor for you. No gold star. You gonna take that lyin' down? Huh? Teacher's pet? You gonna be a failure? A _quitter?_ Oh God - I swear, Leo, if you _quit_ on me, if you - I will _kick _your - don't you - "

Drip.

"Okay. Okay, Leo, here we go. Right now. Here we go. One…two…Wake up. Wake up, Leo. Come on, buddy. Rise and shine."

Drip.

"Aw, you gotta gimme somethin', Leo. Please. Make a noise, wiggle your toe, blink, cough, somethin'. I'm beggin' you, okay? I'm _beggin__'_ you. Please. Please."

Silence.

Drip.

"Fine. Fine, whatever. Be that way. Asshole."

Drip.

Angrily, Raph pushed savagely against the already-closed tap of the old, clawfoot bathtub. The drip finally ceased.

Silence.

He moved his stool closer, leaned over the tub, and rested his forehead against Leo's.

Silence.

"I didn't mean it. I never mean it. Just come back, okay? Just…please come back."

Drip.


	11. 011 Turtles

**This fic is based off a piece of fanart by Fuwa2-Kyara on DeviantArt, simply titled ****"****Idea.****"  
**  
011\. Turtles

The door opened with a creak, and Joe stepped down into the basement, to the hum of small motors and the trickle of water, from the various water filters in the room.

"So…here you go," he said, with a sweeping gesture at the room. It was significantly warmer than it was up in the shop, due in no small part to the various heat lamps set up around the room. A plastic kiddie pool sat in the center of the room, on top of a large, wooden table, built out of plywood and two-by-fours. It was full of baby turtles. Most were basking under the heat lamp on top of a large, flat rock, but some were swimming in the shallow water.

"These are still too little to sell. Another week or two and they'll be ready. And over here we have the incubator, for the next clutch of eggs."

The big dude in the hoodie, scarf, and mask looked around the room, not saying anything.

"Man, when you came in, I kinda thought you were gonna rob the place," Joe laughed nervously, "You uh…wanna take some of that off? It's a little warm in here from the lamps."

"S'fine. I'm still cold."

"Okay, then. So uh. Yeah. This is it."

"And where's…um. Gertie?"

"Oh, Gertie! She's right over here! Come on, follow me."

Joe crossed to the other side of the room, ducked behind some shelves stacked with boxes of pet supplies, beckoning the stranger to follow. Once they had cleared the shelves, he gestured proudly.

"Voila. That's Gert. Ol' Gertie Turtle. She's my breeder. The guy in the tank up there is Brutus, her 'boyfriend.' Well, current boyfriend anyway. We lost Caesar to pneumonia a few years ago now…Gertie got sick too, but she's a tough old biddy. Heh. She actually just laid a nest, they were in the incubator over there where we came in. Twenty-two eggs, this time! That's my girl."

Gertrude placidly chewed on some freeze-dried mealworms, enjoying the sun lamp. There was a large, custom-built structure for her, similar to a long sandbox, only with high, plastic walls. Half of it was a mound of sand, by the sun lamp, and the rest was murky water, which was filtered through a large, noisy filter. The sound of trickling water was actually quite loud in the small room, bouncing off the concrete walls.

"So, yeah! There ya go. Any questions?"

"How long have you had her?"

"Gertie? Long time! Years! Turtles can live quite a while, if you take proper care of them, sometimes up to thirty years! Gertie here is…huh, let's see…I guess a teenager?"

"Do you know exactly how old she is?"

Joe gave the guy a weird look. He'd asked almost a little too quickly, and there was a funny edge to his voice. At first he'd thought he was just curious, enthusiastic…now he was really starting to give him the creeps.

"Well…let's see. I opened the place twenty-five years ago, and we didn't start selling turtles until…hm…I guess it was about four years after we opened. Started with tropical fish, before we got into reptiles. Cleopatra was our first, for about two years, but then she got the dystocia…uh, she couldn't lay eggs. So that's when we got Gertrude. She was three when we bought her, so I guess…nineteen plus three is…yeah, holy cow. I guess that'd make her twenty-two years old, now! Heh! Man, time flies."

"She's beautiful," the guy said warmly. A little too warmly.

"Uh-huh," Joe said, noncommittally, trying to get a better look at the guy.

He took a step backwards…he did it so subtly, it looked like he was just shifting his weight, but Joe couldn't help but notice that it took him a little further out of the light. He started rummaging around in the pocket of his hoodie.

"I'd like to buy her," he said.

"Yeah, sorry," Joe said, with a chuckle, "She's not for sale."

"I'll give you a thousand dollars."

Joe's eyebrows lifted.

"You lookin' to breed turtles?" he asked, suspiciously, "Because…it's not easy. I really don't recommend it unless you've had prior experience with terrapins, there's - "

"Fifteen-hundred. Cash. Look, I've got it right here."

He held up a wad of bills, rolled together and held by a rubber band.

Joe caught a glimpse of the guy's hand before he stuffed the bills back in his pocket. Was he wearing gloves, too? Only, it looked kinda…kinda like…

"You gonna skin her?" he asked angrily, repulsed at the idea.

"Am I - _what?! No!_ Why would you - no!"

"Okay, sorry," Joe mumbled, holding up his hands defensively, "I just…I saw your gloves, and - "

But as soon as he said this, the figure shoved his hands even further into the pocket of his hoodie and stepped all the way back into the shadow.

"Two grand," he said in a shaky voice, "Two thousand dollars."

Joe began to get a funny idea, and with it, a light-headed, dizzy feeling. He broke out into a sweat that had nothing to do with the heat lamps. He'd heard stories, ever since the Kraang invasion…but it was so hard to know what was fact and what was fiction. He felt his heart pounding a little harder.

"Step into the light," he said, firmly.

The figure didn't move, and didn't respond.

"Come on," Joe said, gruffly, braver than he felt, "Step into the light right now, or I'm calling the cops."

The figure stood stock-still, calling his bluff. Joe had just made up his mind that he needed to get the hell out of there, was just about to turn and bolt, was shifting his weight to do it, when -

"Wait," the guy said.

He took a few slow, deliberate steps into the light. Joe studied his face for a moment. There was the scarf, the hoodie, that weird orange mask…but right between the mask and the scarf, he thought just maybe, he saw…

"Take that stuff off," he said, gesturing to the…thing's face.

"I can't."

"I mean it," Joe said, feeling his pulse quicken, "Last chance."

The thing shifted nervously, ducked its head even lower, so the hood covered more of its face. Time seemed to stand still.

"Okay."

Joe watched, as the creature very, very slowly took its hands out of its pockets. It held them up to show him. Joe felt a lump rise in his throat and get stuck. Three fingers on each hand. Three scaly, green fingers.

_Those aren__'__t gloves. _

The thing unzipped its hoodie a few inches, reached in and pulled out the tail of its scarf. It pushed the hood back, and he could see a bald, leathery, reptilian scalp, hairless. It slowly unwound the scarf until it revealed its neck, and the bottom part of its face. And just behind, by its neck, partly obscured by the hoodie, he thought he could see…

_Holy God. It__'__s a shell. _

They stood staring at each other for a moment.

"What, uh…what about the mask?"

The thing took a nervous breath, not breaking eye contact.

"I'm not wearing one."

Joe blinked in confusion, raising a shaky finger.

"That ain't…that's?"

"Oh - right, duh."

The thing actually smiled, and he could see its teeth gleaming in the dim light.

_Jesus Christ! _

"Yeah, that's…I guess I am wearing a mask. But…the orange one stays on," the thing said, firmly. It spoke like a man, but…

"You…are you an alien?" Joe asked, trying to keep his voice from trembling, "Are you with the Kraang?"

"No! No. Not even a little bit."

"Okay. Are you…um. Are you…a…"

Things slowly began to fall into place in Joe's mind.

"You're a _turtle_."

The thing nodded slowly.

"You're…you're one of those mutants they talked about on the news. From the invasion. They…mutated you, right?"

It nodded again.

Joe looked slowly between Gertrude, and the mutant thing, then back to Gertrude again.

He squinted at the green leathery face of the turtle in the giant hoodie.

"How old are you, son?"

"Nineteen, sir."

His voice was trembling a bit as he answered.

And suddenly it all came together. Joe's eyes flew open wide, as he looked at Gertrude. His mouth puckered, and he let out a low, slow whistle.

"Nineteen," he repeated, "Nineteen years old, and Gertie here…is…"

He trailed off, eyeing the strange creature, wanting to confirm what he already suspected.

"You live around here?"

It shifted weight again, nervously, and nodded.

"You _always_ lived here? Where you from originally?"

It looked up, met his eyes pleadingly. They seemed to glisten, or maybe it was just the dim light.

"I was born _here_," he said.

_Gertie...she's his..._

_I'll be damned._

"So. We have a deal?" it asked, its voice still trembling, "Two thousand dollars?"

It reached into its hoodie pocket, and held the roll of bills out into the light. It trembled slightly in his grasp.

Joe stared at those thick, green, leathery fingers. Cautiously, slowly, he stepped forward. Careful not to make any sudden movements, he put one hand underneath the mutant's hand, and with the other, closed his fingers around the wad of money. He gently pushed it away, and released him.

"I don't want your money."

He crossed over to the enclosure, and made the clicking noise in the side of his tongue he made every time he gave Gertie fresh grubs. She looked over, and with surprising speed, marched placidly into the water, and swam closer. Joe reached down, grabbed her by the shell, and lifted her from the shallow pool. She hissed, and partly retracted her head, but the promise of grubs, however empty, did much to belay her temper.

"Would you like to hold her?" Joe asked, gently.

The thing made a subtle gasping noise. "Y - can I?"

Joe felt a lump rising in his throat again, but for a totally different reason.

_He sounds just like Jason._

"I've got a boy," Joe said, thickly, "He's fifteen. Sixteen next month. Not much younger than you."

"Okay," it said, nervously.

Joe nodded, and stepped closer, positioning Gertie on the thing's hoodie. He carefully guided its hands to her shell.

"Support her here and here," he instructed in a shaky voice, "And don't get your fingers near her mouth, she'll bite ya."

Gertie let out another hiss, as though to emphasize the point.

"Don't take it personal," Joe added, hastily, "They don't really like to be handled."

He took a step back and watched for a moment.

"Hey," the kid whispered, in a soft, shaky voice, "Hey, Gertrude."

It licked his lips, and then bit down hard on its lower lip, seeming to freeze in place. After a second, it took a noisy breath, and sniffed, hard.

"She's yours," Joe said, the words out before he even realized he'd made the decision.

"Okay," it said, its voice thick, "If you…take her back for a second, and I'll give you the - "

"No. No money," Joe said, shaking his head slowly, in disbelief.

"I can pay," it said. Joe heard the note of hurt in its voice, of wounded pride.

"I know you can," Joe said, soothingly, as though he were talking to his son, "But I don't want you to."

The thing ducked its head, squeezing its eyes shut. After a moment, it sniffed audibly again.

_This is unreal. This is un-friggin'-real._

"Do you have everything you need?" Joe prompted, gently, "An enclosure? Sun lamp? Food, water filter?"

"Yeah," the kid said, sniffing again and trying to wipe its nose on the shoulder of its hoodie, "It's all - yeah. I been savin' up."

Joe shook his head, incredulously. In spite of himself, he found his eyes starting to sting.

"Son," he said, gruffly, "If you uh - if you _ever_ need…She likes grubs. Fresh grubs. For a treat."

"'Kay. Thanks, Mister…um…"

"You c'n just call me Joe."

It sniffed again.

"I'm Mike."

Mike.

Just like that.

Mike!

_Un-freakin'-believable._

"You're welcome here any time, Mike. Now, uh…it's chilly out, why don't you tuck her in your sweatshirt there."

"'Kay."

He unzipped his hoodie even further, and Joe nearly passed out to see what was unmistakably a plastron. A huge, scarred plastron - _Jesus Christ!_ Gertie hissed again as she was being handled, tried to nip the guy, but he didn't even seem to notice. Once she was zipped up in the hoodie, though, she quieted down again. The guy awkwardly started trying to tie his scarf with one hand while supporting Gertrude with the other. His hoodie was stained with the water.

"Here, I can - uh…" Joe took a hesitant step forward, "May I?"

The kid hesitated, then slowly nodded, the orange of his mask bobbing up and down.

Joe stepped forward, closer than he'd ever been before, and tried not to stare too closely. He grabbed the edge of the scarf, and carefully started winding it around the thing's neck. As he brought it up and started winding it around its face, he glanced up and made eye contact.

The softest baby-blue eyes, wide with fear and red from tears stared straight back into his soul. He had freckles…freckles on his cheeks, peeking out from under the orange mask.

"Mike," Joe said, "I am…_honored_. It's an _honor_ to meet you."

Mike blinked, and gave the smallest of nods. Joe carefully reached back and pulled Mike's hoodie up, and tugged it low over his face, the way he had it when he walked in.

"There you go," Joe said, shakily stepping back, "All set."

"Sir," Mike said, "Joe, I - thank you."

"No, son," Joe said, shaking his head slowly, "Thank you."

Mike slowly started to walk towards the basement door, still cradling Gertrude.

"I'm never gonna see you again, am I?" Joe asked, realizing it as he said it.

Mike froze at the bottom of the steps, and turned part way.

"Probably not," he said, sadly.

Joe nodded, eyes raking him up and down, taking every last detail in, hungry to save him to his memory permanently.

"It's okay. I get it. That's okay," he said, "I know you'll take good care of her."

Mike nodded. "We will."

And then - and this is the part Joe would never forget, not for the rest of his life - the kid turned to face him, and _bowed._

He was too stunned to even say or do anything in reply.

Moments later, he was gone.

Joe stood stock-still in that basement for at least an hour, listening to the hum of the motors, the trickle of water, and the subtle, electric buzz of the sun lamps.


	12. 012 Blood

**SAINW-verse****  
**  
012\. Blood

There was plenty of blood in the horror movies Michaelangelo loved to watch so much. Too much, honestly. There was always a huge arterial spray - spurts of pressurized air through plastic tubing sending fountains of eye-catching gore spattering everywhere. Mikey told him once it was usually laundry detergent or corn syrup mixed with red dye. He would always laugh, and add something philosophical like "Sick, dude!"

It wasn't like that in real life.

Blood was a precious, finite resource, and it really didn't take much to be_ too_ much.

Leo grunted as tied the tourniquet tightly around the stump of Mikey's arm. He cried out against the pain.

"Shh!" he hissed, fiercely, darting his eyes back to the battlefield, "Shut up! Here."

He whipped his mask off his head with one hand and pressed it into Mikey's mouth.

"Bite," he said. He grabbed a stick off the ground, placed it in the knot of the tourniquet and began to twist.

His stomach flipped as Mikey began to howl into his bandana, tears streaming down his face, leaving tracks of green in the blood spatter. He kicked his legs in involuntary protest, his one remaining fist banging repeatedly on the ground in agony. Leo remorselessly kept it up until he was sure he'd stopped the worst of the bleeding, and then tied off his work. It'd have to do. Donnie could -

He gasped, held his breath.

He and Raph could patch it up more thoroughly later.

Mikey turned his head weakly, blanching as he regarded the oozing stump that used to be his arm.

"Shick dude," he mumbled, around a mouthful of Leo's mask.

Leo took his head in both hands, and pressed his forehead to Mikey's.

"Don't look," he whispered. 


	13. 013 Gray

**SAINW**

013\. Gray

Donnie peered into Leo's scarred face in shock and amazement. He knew it was Leo - honestly, who else could it really be? But it was so unlike him he could scarcely believe it.

"Leo?"

Leo smiled, but the act looked almost cruelly painful, like rusty barbed wire - it made you wince just to look at it.

"You…you're different….everything is so different."

"You're exactly the same," Leo murmured, his eyes fixed at some point just slightly to Donnie's left. 

He had removed his sunglasses - not so that he could see any better, obviously, but because Donnie had seemed so incredulous that it could really be him. His eyes used to be such a vibrant blue, like a stormy sea…now they were clouded over with gray.

Donnie held up a hand, and slowly waved it up and down in front of Leo's face. Leo's eyes didn't trace the gesture, but he smirked, and after a moment's pause, he snaked a hand out with a strike as fast as any viper's, and seize Donatello's wrist lightly.

"How…how are you doing that?" Donnie asked, bewildered.

"I don't need my eyes to see," he answered cryptically.

Still holding Donnie's wrist, he pulled him slowly closer. Donnie gulped, sensing that there was something dangerous, something unbalanced in Leo that he'd never sensed before. But Leo only wrapped his arms around Donnie gingerly, as though he had never hugged anyone before, had read about it and thought he might like to try it. The gesture felt stiff and foreign at first, but soon Leo was practically crushing the breath out of him.

"Exactly the same," he whispered in Donnie's ear.

It sounded like a lament and an accusation.


	14. 014 Foreign

**2007 'verse**

014 Foreign

"Gah!" Leo said, grabbing the remote off the back of the couch. He hastily lowered the volume of the TV by about half.

"Heyyyy," Mikey said, turning away from the television, "I was watching that!"

"You're still watching it," Leo said, putting the remote back down, "But now the rest of us can hear ourselves think."

"Pfft, whatever," Mikey grumbled, and returned to his Lucky Charms and noisy cartoons. Leo thought he heard him mutter something about him being an "old lady," but he still couldn't hear him over the din from the television.

Adjusting after spending so much time in the rain forest was taking some time. Even now, months later, little things like this would make him realize just how much he had changed during his travels.

Like the sheer degree of _noise_ around him. While he was traveling, the solitude and quiet would sometimes become unbearable, and he'd find himself desperately homesick.

Now that he was home, he could barely hear himself think.

He had gotten so used to living off the land, foraging and fending for himself as best he could, taking only when it was absolutely necessary. Now, he looked at a fridge full of food, and found it almost dizzying, opulent, wasteful. When produce didn't get eaten in time and had to be thrown away, he felt the loss keenly.

Fresh water, too, was cheerfully wasted. In his journeys, he had seen the lengths people went to to secure clean water, hiking miles every day, begging, bartering, and boiling to kill deadly parasites. Here, it flowed from the tap, nonstop, while Raph brushed his teeth, until Leo could barely stand it, and _had_ to reach out to shut the tap off.

"What's the big deal?" Raph had asked, crossly, "Not like we pay a water bill."

Once, coming in from the garage, he'd tripped over a screwdriver Donnie had left lying out, and an annoyed "_¡__Ay!__"_ had automatically left his lips, instead of "Ow!" That had proven slightly embarrassing, as Mikey had teased him with Speedy Gonzales impersonations for a week.

His dreams were a trilingual, cultural mish-mash. You could easily expect to find feudal samurai chattering in rapid Spanish, or a three-toed sloth asking directions to Central Park in slow, deliberate Japanese. But gradually, as he'd been home, his dreams had begun slowly to revert to mostly English. It gave him a strange feeling of loss.

He had gotten used to feeling like a foreigner as he traveled the world…he hadn't expected to still feel like one when he got home.


	15. 015 Sorrow

015 Sorrow

"Sheesh, isn't he laying this on a little thick?" Raph grumbled, pursing his lips and giving the door to Donnie's laboratory a suspicious glare.

"Your brother deserves our patience and our compassion," Splinter reprimanded, tapping Raphael's head lightly with his walking stick. "If you are very lucky, someday you too may have your heart broken by a beautiful woman."

"Hey, I tried to warn him," Raph shrugged, "Was bound to happen sooner or later. At least now he can let it go."

"Yes," Splinter said, gently, "But that process takes time, Raphael. I know you are in a difficult position, being close friends with Casey - but that is why you must take extra care to be supportive of your brother now."

"_Hai, sensei." _

"Hey, guys," Mikey said, bounding up from his bedroom, "I wanted to see if - "

He paused, and listened to the music seeping through the crack in Donnie's door.

"_Still?!_" he said, agog, "Dude!"

"Donatello will heal in his own time," Splinter promised, placing a reassuring hand on Mikey's shoulder.

Mikey wrinkled his nose dubiously. "Leo? What's the weather report?"

Leo looked up from his graphic novel and listened thoughtfully.

"It's the snow scene from Act Three of _La Boheme_," he reported, "We're still holding at 'mopey' with a chance of showers."

He returned to his reading.

"Hmm…think he wants a sandwich?"

"Heh. An April sandwich," Raph mumbled, with a smirk. He winced as sensei gave him a slightly firmer rap with the walking stick.

"I'll make him a sandwich," Mikey decided, and bounced cheerfully off to the kitchen.

The music abruptly stopped, and was soon replaced by sighing strings and a sonorous Italian tenor.

"Uh-oh," Leo said, looking up in alarm, "_Vesti la Giubba_."

He turned towards the kitchen.

"Mikey! It's _Pagliacci!_"

"Kitty!" Mikey ordered, flinging open the freezer, "Rocky Road, stat!"

With a feline yowl, a pint of ice cream was ejected from the freezer, which Mikey deftly caught. He snagged two spoons out of the dish drainer and did a one-armed handspring towards the lab.

"I'm comin', bro!"

He flung the door open.

"_Riiiiiiiidiiiiiiii Pagliaaaaaacciaaaaaa,__"_ bellowed Pavarotti from the lab.

"I'M GOIN' IN!" Mikey hollered.

Pavarotti's anguished outburst was abruptly muted as Mikey slammed the lab door shut behind him.

Splinter pinched the bridge of his nose, and shook his head slightly.

"Teenagers."


	16. 016 Happiness

**MOAR TURTLE TOTS XD****  
**  
016 Happiness

"Sensei?"

"Mmph?"

Though he would never admit it, Splinter had been just about to nod off right where he sat. Keeping up with four six-year-olds was exhausting, especially when those four six-year-olds were rapidly becoming skilled martial artists.

He had hoped that increased training would channel their exuberant energy. Now the fact that all four could nearly outrun him, or the fact that Michaelangelo had made the cookie jar "ninja vanish" for the fourth time that week, or the fact that playground tussles now occasionally involved _stitches_ made him question the wisdom of his decision.

He had only acquiesced to bringing home a television after months of sustained whining, pleading, and cajoling…Now, by the time the end of the day rolled around, he was supremely grateful to plop all four of them in front of the same worn VHS of Beauty and the Beast, so used and abused that the sound periodically warped out of tune.

Michaelangelo, true to form, had been the most excited for the movie, quoting every line and singing along in the beginning - and also the first to fall asleep. He had two modes: On, and Off, and fell asleep as easily as flipping a light switch. Leonardo followed not too long after, and while Raphael had put up a good fight, determined to prove his adulthood by staying up the latest, his head had slowly sagged until it finally rested in sensei's lap.

Donatello was always the last to fall asleep, the night owl of the bunch. This, however, often meant he could have a quiet conversation in the evening with his intelligent, introverted son without his more boisterous brothers overshadowing him.

That is, if he could stay awake. Splinter suppressed a yawn.

"What is it, Donatello?"

"Are we happy?"

Splinter furrowed his brow, unsure he understood the question.

"What do you mean, Donatello?"

"Are we happy?"

"I do not understand, my son. Do you _feel _happy?"

"Well," Donnie said, the blue glow from the television screen flickering on his face, "Belle wasn't happy because she was smart and loved books and nobody understood her. Just like me."

"Oh," Sensei said, taken aback. Donatello, his sweet, quiet son, thought nobody understood him?

"And the Beast wasn't happy because he was ugly and all alone, like -"

"Donatello," Splinter said, firmly, and had to remind himself to keep his voice soft, "You are not ugly. And you are not 'all alone.' What a thing to say! What about your brothers and I?"

"Yeah, but you're like…the candle guy and the teapot and dishes and stuff," Donnie explained, as though this were obvious, "Because they still had to hide in the castle away from the humans. So they're together but they're still alone. Just like us."

"I…suppose," Splinter conceded. He had used the "scary" mob scene from the film before as a teachable moment, to explain that people feared what they didn't understand, and to reinforce why it was so important that they remain hidden.

"But then Belle and the Beast found each other and then they fought some wolves and had a snowball fight and fell in love. Then he wasn't mean anymore, and they read books and drank soup and they lived happily ever after."

Splinter nodded, thoughtfully.

"So, how does it work?" Donnie asked, "Do I find the princess, or does she come and find me? And do we have to actually kiss? Because Raphie says kissing is gross but I think maybe if you really, _really_ like the girl you could put up with it once in a while."

Splinter gave his son a sideways glance.

"I think you are a little young to be kissing princesses, Donatello."

"Yeah, but then I could be a human for real."

Splinter's breath caught in his throat.

He opened his mouth to tell him that the story was just pretend, that nothing could ever turn him human - and realized that surely his practical, studious son already knew this on some level. But by holding out hope for a magical transformation, he was holding out hope that somewhere out there in the human world, there was a place for him - maybe even someone who could accept him as he was.

Telling him it wasn't real, that it was just pretend, would dash that hope…and worse, he worried his son would extrapolate that nothing _else_ in the movie was real, either - would conclude that love, kindness, growing into a better person, and learning to see someone through new eyes were also just pretend, just more fairy tales to be dismissed.

"My son…why do you _want_ to be a human?"

"Well," Donnie said, matter-of-factly, "So I can live happily ever after. Weren't you happy, when you used to be a human?"

Splinter sighed thoughtfully. Was he? This was _way_ more than he was expecting to deal with at the end of a long day.

He thought back to his beloved Tang Shen, her coy smile, her raven hair fanned on the pillow, gleaming in the moonlight as they tenderly made love. He thought of the proud day he first held little Miwa in his arms…yet inevitably, these images of bliss always gave way to searing heat, acrid smoke, the sound of timbers creaking and snapping - memories of the betrayal that tore them from his arms forever, and the anguish only those who have loved and lost can know.

"Sensei?" Donatello prompted.

"There were times when I was very happy," he said, evenly, "And there were times when I was very sad."

"And now? Now that you're a rat?" Donnie pressed, scowling seriously as his clinical mind took over, "How would you rate your happiness level?"

Splinter chuffed and shook his head, amused by the bizarre logic of his son's mind.

"Now, as before, there are times when I am happy and times when I am sad."

He reached for Donnie, and pulled him closer. Donnie snuggled down gingerly, careful not to bump Raphael as he put his head against Splinter's other thigh.

"There are many ways to find happiness, my son," Splinter said, stroking Donnie's head rhythmically, "Aren't you happy when you learn a new _kata_?"

"It's okay," Donnie answered, honestly, "Leo really likes it, though."

"There you are, then," Splinter said, "Learning _kata_ makes Leo happy. What makes Michaelangelo happy?"

"Pizza!" Donnie said, "And video games and T.V. and comic books and stealing the cookie jar and his skateboard and - "

"Yes," Splinter said wryly, "Michaelangelo is a lucky boy. He has many things that make him happy. And Raphael?"

"Nothing makes Raphie happy," Donnie said, reproachfully.

Splinter smirked. "I am sure that is not true, Donatello."

"Um…breaking things?" Donnie guessed, wrinkling his nose.

"No, that is what makes him feel better," Splinter said, with a worried shake of his head, "Not what makes him happy. He only does that because he is angry or sad or afraid. Do you understand?"

"Kind of. Like how the Beast wrecks the stuff in his room at the beginning."

"Exactly. Think, my son. What makes Raphael happy?"

"Maybe…winning?" Donnie said, puzzling it out, "Like when we spar? Or when he beat Leo at checkers. He was happy. Oh! And sometimes he just kind of lays around in his hammock doing nothing and you told Mikey not to bother him because he was having quiet time. So maybe quiet time makes Raphie happy?"

"Yes," Splinter said, nodding, "I think both of those things make Raphael happy. So you see, my son, there are many, many ways to be happy. You just need to find what makes Donnie-_bo_ happy."

"_Sensei_, what makes you feel happy?"

Splinter smiled, and leaning over, kissed Donatello on the head. Raphael murmured in his sleep and smacked his lips at the motion.

"You. You and your brothers."

"No, I mean for real, though."

"I am being very 'for real,' Donatello."

"Hm," Donnie replied, thoughtfully.

They watched as Gaston went pitching over the side of the castle. Belle ran forward and flung herself at the Beast as he slumped to the ground.

"So…I guess we _are_ happy, then, right?"

"Yes," Splinter concluded, "I suppose we are."

"That's good," Donnie said, yawning, "I was just wondering."

They watched as Belle professed her undying love, and sparks in the rain began signaling the Beast's miraculous transformation.

"I don't like it when he changes," Donatello said, his voice already sounding far away with sleep, "He looks weird. He's cooler-looking when he's the Beast."

"Mm," Splinter hummed, "Much cooler-looking."

He continued to stroke his son's head until his breathing became noisy and regular, whistling slightly through the gap in his teeth. He sighed to himself as the credits began to roll. He'd have to wait until he was more deeply asleep to move him.

Michaelangelo and Leonardo cuddled together on the floor with their limbs tangled together, passed out in front of the television with a half-empty bowl of popcorn close at hand. Raphael's head rested on his right leg, and Donatello drooled peacefully on his left.

He looked at each of his four sons.

And he was happy.


	17. 017 Under The Rain

**2007 Verse.**

017 Under The Rain

Leonardo had faced down armies. He had squared off against aliens. He had lead his brothers into battle - fought alongside them - bled alongside them. He had been willing to lay down his own life, not only for them, but for the good of others, others who wouldn't even know or appreciate his sacrifice, who would fear and revile him. He had defeated his clan's greatest foe, and restored honor to his clan. He had traveled through time and space, and now, had traveled the world, always seeking to right wrongs and help others, seeking nothing in return but enlightenment.

He had trained long and hard, for countless hours, to become a refined machine of war and swift right arm of peace, a ninja of deadly accuracy, grace, and power.

But right now, right here, at the end of the day - he was a hungry, wet, bone-weary teenager half-way around the world, far from home, half-eaten alive by mosquitos and fire ants, who hadn't seen a working toilet in two months, hadn't eaten a real meal since Japan, hadn't seen his family in almost a year, and officially had no idea what the hell he was supposed to be doing here anymore.

Deep in the rainforest, huddled under some hastily-tied palm branches, where there was no one to see or judge but the insects contentedly feasting on him - Leo buried his face in his knees and wept.

He would spend the next year running from that moment of weakness - determined not to come home a failure. He never suspected that this weakness would become his strength - never suspected that this humble, desperate longing for family and fellowship was the lesson all along.


	18. 018 Night

018 Night

_She walks in beauty, like the night_

_Of cloudless climes and starry skies,_

_And all that's best of dark and bright_

_Meets in her aspect and her eyes_

_\- Lord Byron_

Donnie sat on the edge of the dock, watching the fireflies waltz, gently fading in and out of existence, flirting with the stars reflected in the still, mirrored surface of the lake. The worn wood under his thighs was still warm with the heat of the day, even though the sun had long-since set. Frogs croaked in the bulrushes, and crickets and cicadas whispered a ceaseless, yearning song to one another: "I'm here, my love. Find me. Find me."

He dipped his toes into the cool water and sighed, his own heart whispering the same song in a discordant, minor key.

It had been days since April had kissed him, had called him "her mutant" - and he still understood nothing. The instant he had finally made peace with the fact that she would never, ever love him, that he was making a fool and a nuisance of himself - she had given him just a grain of hope, a taste of bliss, literally…and it was simultaneously the disease and the cure, both stinging acid and soothing balm to his confused, aching heart.

He pictured the easy lope of her strong legs as she walked; her slim wrist, spattered with faint freckles, as she reached for the salt at the dinner table; the absent-minded way she pushed her silky red bangs out of her eyes when she was reading a book. The sunny, uncomplicated affection in her smile.

He was seized by an intense pang of longing - something like a cross between a deep thirst and a toothache in his chest. Her lips had barely brushed his, for barely a moment, but now that they had, it was all he could think about, and he almost missed complete hopelessness, because as sad as it was, it didn't _burn_ the way hope did.

He was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps approaching in the tall grass, and his heart began to race as he realized who it was - none of his brothers would be so noisy, and the footfalls were much too light to be Casey.

The footsteps paused as they reached the dock. Donnie continued to stare out at the lake fixedly, not wanting to turn around, holding his breath, waiting to see what she would say, what she would do. Every sense was on heightened alert.

A frog jumped into the lake, and the stars danced.

The footsteps gently made their way down the dock until she stood next to him, and he couldn't reasonably pretend not to notice her anymore. He turned his head, and looked up at her and it was like a blow from a hammer, just how _gorgeous_ she was, looking up at the moon, with a soft smile on her face. Finally she turned that smile directly on him.

He should probably say something like "Nice night," or "Hey, April," or "I love you so much it's killing me," but since he wasn't sure which would come out, he just smiled back, nodded once, and forced himself to look back across the lake.

Her hand ghosted across his shoulder, and gave him a gentle squeeze…he resisted the urge to lean into it, resisted the urge to grab her by the wrist, pull her into his arms, and bury his face in her scent - and as quickly as she had done it, she released him, and was already turning and walking quietly back up the dock.

And as always, he was left wondering: _"__What does it mean?!__"_

Was that a romantic touch? A friendly one? An invitation? Comfort?

Donnie wracked his brains, and tried and tried to divine her intent.

Well, it certainly wasn't hostile. It certainly wasn't indifferent. And it was something more than friendly…something more than casual. It was…kind. There was always kindness in her touch. It was both a sweet, blessed relief, and a torturous reminder of just how much _more_ he craved - just enough to wet your tongue.

He stared up into the vast canopy of stars overhead, listened to the crickets and cicadas, and wondered if maybe she had heard him calling, after all.

_Sure on this shining night_

_Of star made shadows round,_

_Kindness must watch for me_

_This side the ground._

_\- James Agee_


	19. 019 Under The Stars

**Rating: T? Or M? Depends on what you think they were up to ;) I wanted to leave it deliberately ambiguous, since I think the difference between their two favorite activities is equally ambiguous to them. For added fun, listen to Sam Smith - Stay With Me while reading. **

**019\. Under The Stars**

"Hah!"

"Aaah!"

"_Grr-angh!" _

Leo collapsed back against the brick wall behind him, the night air cooling the sheen of sweat on his skin. He tipped his head back and panted, chill bumps racing up and down the back of his neck. Karai panted in his ear, as they both enjoyed the respite, limbs deliciously heavy. He could hear, more than see, the corners of her mouth turning up into a smile, changing the sound of her breath.

"We've got…to stop…meeting like this," she panted, in a way that indicated she wanted no such thing.

Leo felt his own face twist into a helpless grin. His pulse was pounding and arms were shaking. Not very butch, but couldn't be helped - he seemed powerless to stop his muscles from twitching. Besides, they'd been at it for a good long while, and if he was tired, he knew she had to be too, however well she was hiding it.

Speaking of arms, he only just noticed that the way they had landed, her arm was slung over his midsection. He wanted too badly to grab that arm and pull her into him, run his hand up to her shoulder, up through her sweaty, tangled hair, grip it between his fingers as they kissed - but knew that as soon as he did, at the first sign of anything remotely affectionate or tender - it would be over. She'd disappear.

So they lay on the deserted roof top, huddled against the low brick wall separating them from a dizzying fall, enjoying the smell of each other's sweat and waiting for their breathing to normalize, weapons and armor strewn haphazardly over the roof top like hard-won fruits shaken from the tree, sweet and sour and forbidden.

"Stars," Leo observed, quietly, looking up at the night sky.

"Didn't think I hit you that hard," Karai teased.

"Real ones," Leo replied, with a wry smirk.

"This is New York, idiot." He could feel the small puffs of her breath on his neck as she spoke, she was so close. "You can't see the stars. It's probably just an airplane."

Finally having an excuse to touch her face, he tilted her chin with his hand, and then pointed, so she was looking where he was looking.

Sure enough, in the clearing between two cloud banks, barely visible through the light pollution of the city, there was a small smattering of stars…one bright one, and another near it, barely visible.

"Huh," Karai said.

"Now who's got stars in their eyes?"

He meant it to be teasing, flirtatious…but he'd caught her eyes as he said it and his voice came out much warmer, much deeper than he'd intended. Already he could see her flinch, see the trace of discomfort there.

The hand slowly began snaking away from his midsection. He caught it at the wrist.

"Don't," he begged quietly. He hated the urgent, pleading tone in his voice, knew it would just seal her decision, but he couldn't help it - he wanted her to stay, wanted to hold her, wanted to know that this was more than just…whatever this was.

As soon as he grabbed her wrist though, she gave it a resentful look, and scowling, immediately broke his hold, scooting away from him.

Leo sighed, and turned back to the night sky in frustration.

"Fine," he said, focusing on his irritation instead of his hurt, "Why not? You got what _you _were after."

"Hey," Karai said, sitting up and replacing her gauntlets from where they had fallen, "So did you."

"You know that's not what I'm after," Leo said, watching her reattach her face shield.

_Aaaaand she__'__s gone. _

Only her amber eyes glared back at him now above the steel - impassive, unfeeling, ringed with black eyeliner and blood-red make-up. In returning her mask, the mask between them had returned.

"Is this how it's going to be, Karai?" Leo asked, his chest hurting. Probably from where she'd kicked him. "Is this how it's going to be forever?"

"Silly wabbit," Karai said with a cold smirk, "I am _kunoichi._ There is no _'__forever.__'_ You will take what I give and be damned grateful. And when I'm bored, I'll find myself a new toy. Y'know, your brother's pretty cute."

Leo rolled his eyes at the empty threat. He knew she was just baiting him, that the closer he got, the harder she pushed.

He also knew Raph would have nothing to do with her.

"You can smell the crazy rollin' offa her in _waves_," Raph had said, taking a big mock sniff, "Yep. 100% pure, imported _Eau de Straightjacket.__"_

_And they say Donnie__'__s the smart one.__  
_  
"Fine, go ahead," he called her bluff, staring at the stars they were just watching just seconds ago. He could almost still feel the heat of her next to him. "If that's all this is, then it doesn't matter to me. Please, he could use a good…_spar_."

He spat it out like the four-letter word it was.

He kept waiting for her to leave, knew that if he turned to look at her, she would.

Here it was again. The waiting game. First one to blink, first one to reach for the other is the big loser. Because the one who cares the least has all the power.

A bright light slowly began to traverse the sky, closely flanked by two smaller flashing lights. An airplane.

"Hmm," Karai murmured playfully, "A shooting star. Make a wish, Leo."

Leo just shook his head. "I wish you'd - "

He turned to address her, but she was already gone.

He sighed, and looked back up at the plane, now traversing their little patch of sky, the stars invisible against the brighter lights. He lay there, staring for a while, until finally, he sat up with a grunt, and started retrieving his gear.


	20. 020 Hold My Hand

**Turtle Tots again! :D Then, not-so-Tots. I am officially 20% done with the challenge! Wow. And uh…sorry in advance. ^_^;**

020\. Hold My Hand

"It is time, my sons. Hold my hand."

Leo and Donnie lined up obediently, Leo on Splinter's right and Donnie on his left. Mikey bounded cheerfully up to Donnie and held his hand, even hugging it to his chest - those two were always thick as thieves.

"Come on, Waphie," Leo said, reaching out his hand.

Raphie scowled. How come Leo and Donnie always got to hold _sensei__'__s_ hand?! _Sensei_ said it was the big brother's "job" to look after them, but it was so unfair! Raphie didn't need looking after. Nobody even knew for SURE that Donnie was older. Maybe HE was! And how come he always had to hold hands with stupid Leo, anyway? Couldn't he and Mikey switch, at least? Leo liked being in charge of Raphie a little too much, and it made him really mad. Sometimes he stepped on his feet on purpose while they were walking.

"_Sensei_, I'm _big_, now," he whined, "Why do I have to hold stupid Leo's hand? He can't even say my name right."

Leo scowled at Raph, and insistently stuck his hand out, again.

"Raphael," Splinter, scolded, "Your brother is working very hard on his R's. Even I had trouble with my L's and my R's, when I first learned to speak English."

"Weally, _sensei_?"

"_Hai,_ Leonardo, '_R- R- Really_.' Now, the sewers are dangerous, and when we travel together, we hold hands. That is the rule, Raphael._ Hayaku!__"_

"But _why_ is it the rule?" Raphie whined, finally stepping forward and putting his hand in Leo's recalcitrantly. Leo gave him a smug smirk and Raphie pouted.

"Because I am the _sensei!__"_ Splinter replied, his weariness making him short, "_Shizuka ni!_ Ninja are quiet."

"_Yeah_, WrrrRaphie," Leo added smugly, for emphasis, "Ninja are _quiet!_"

"You too, Leo-_bo!_"

Leo looked sheepish at being rebuked, and Raph sneered at him in satisfaction. Leo stuck his tongue out, and Raph returned the gesture, not watching his footing. He tripped on a piece of broken concrete, and almost fell into the sewer, but Leo pulled him back from the edge firmly, the sudden motion tugging on _sensei__'__s_ arm.

"_Nani da- ?!_ _Boys!_" Splinter snapped, "What is _wrong_ with you, today?! Even Michelangelo is being quiet!"

"OooOOooo, you guys'z'in troubllllle," Mikey sing-songed.

"In _three seconds_, we are turning around and _no one _is going to the landfill! _Ichi__…__niiiiiiii?_…."

The boys fell immediately silent. Helping_ sensei_ at the landfill was the closest they ever got to the surface world. The landfill often meant new treasures, broken toys, books that weren't too badly wet or soiled, even a VHS tape. Sometimes, if they snuck up to the top of a tall heap of garbage, they could even see the lights of Manhattan sparkling by night.

"_Ikuzo._"

They set off again, in silence this time.

But Raphael trod on Leo's heel as often as he dared, ignoring the nasty looks Leo shot him, or the vice-like warning squeezes of his hand.

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

Leo was, as always, on his right side…Donnie seated at his left, each of them holding one of his hands. Donnie had his arm slung around Mikey, who had a hand around sensei's ankle, and was rubbing it gently, stopping periodically to wipe his face. Raph stood at the foot of the bed with his arms folded, not making eye contact with anyone, concentrating on controlling his breathing.

_Why do Leo and Donnie get to hold his hands? _

"It's time," Leo said, softly. His eyes were still closed, concentrating. From his voice, you would never know he was crying - in his meditative state, he might not even realize it himself, but the evidence darkened his mask and glistened on his cheeks in the candlelight. "He's going."

Mikey whimpered, and buried his face in Donnie's shoulder. Don leaned his head against Mikey's and shushed him gently.

Raph stepped forward, seized by the sudden urge to hold on, to do something to tether his father here, with them. Leo reached without opening his eyes, without looking up, and seized Raph's hand, firmly.

He was no good at this mental mumbo jumbo - never was. For a long time, he assumed Leo was exaggerating his proficiency, just so he could feel like an extra-special snowflake.

But for a moment, he really did feel it - a powerful wave of bittersweet nostalgia and longing and loss…but then the storming swirl of emotions slowly released, like a knot being untied…the undertow of fear and sadness relaxed into an overwhelming sensation of deep peace and warm, white light; light that slowly dissipated like an echo, receding into profound stillness, until…

"That's it," Leo said, his voice finally breaking. His eyes fluttered as he opened them, the connection broken. "That's it. He's gone."

Mikey gave a heartbroken wail, and collapsed forward, pressing his head against his father's leg.

"Mikey," Donnie choked, rubbing his shoulders, "It's okay. It's okay, Mikey."

"No it's n-not!" he sobbed piteously, wiping his face on his father's blankets, "_Sensei, _he - he's - _Donnieee-heee!_"

Mike turned to Don, and they squeezed each other fiercely tight, rocking back and forth slightly as they wept. 

Raph was startled out of his own shock, by Leo squeezing his hand. Raph looked over to see him gritting his jaw determinedly, holding his breath, tears streaming silently down his face, staring at sensei's paw still held in his hand.

Raph squeezed back.


	21. 021 Eyes

**A silly one to make up for 020. ^_^;**

**021\. Eyes**

"Hey, uh, Mikey?"

"Yuh-huh?"

"Lemme know if…y'know, if this is a weird question."

"_Oo!_ I _love _weird questions! That's my _favorite_ kinda question! Go 'head, April!"

"Y'know, how…when you guys get mad, or scared, or you go into sort of…ninja stealth mode…your eyes get all…"

"White?"

"Yeah," April said, with relief. It seemed like Mikey was aware of it and didn't think it was odd.

"So…what's that about?" she laughed lightly, "Sorry, is it rude for me to ask?"

"No prob! That's just a nicotine brain."

"Your…wait, it's _what?!_"

"My nicotine brain?"

"Mikey," April cried, aghast, "Are you - _smoking?!__"_

"He's _what?!__"_

There was a crashing sound from Donnie's lab. He stormed out into the living room, hands on his hips.

"Have you gone completely _insane?! Leo! _Get in here!"

"What?!" Mikey replied, "No no no no! I'm - "

"I think I might've - " April started, sensing a misunderstanding, but -

"What's going on?" Leo asked, throwing a towel over his shoulder as he stepped out of the dojo, followed shortly by Raph.

"Mikey is _smoking!_" Don said, pointing at Mikey accusingly.

"Dude!" Mike cried, his eyes wide and indignant at the injustice.

"_What?! _Mikey - is this true?!" Leo asked, his lip curling in disgust.

"Of _course_ not!" Mikey pouted.

"Good!" Raph threatened, making a fist menacingly, "'Cause if you even _look_ at a pack of cigarettes, I'm gonna pound you into turtle-burgers!"

"Mikey, what were you trying to say? About your…'nicotine brain?'" April asked, helplessly confused.

"_You_ wanted to know about why our eyes go all white n' stuff!" Mikey said woundedly, pointing an accusing finger at her, "Now you got me in _trouble!_"

"'Nicotine brain,'" Donnie repeated, furrowing his brow, "'Nico -' WAIT. _Nictitating membrane?!_"

"Yeah!" Mikey pouted, "You told me our eyes get all white when we're fighting 'cuz of our nicotine brain!"

Leo and Raph groaned, and turning, trudged back to the dojo. There was a dull smack as Donnie face-palmed.

"_Nic-ti-ta-ting Mem-brane,__"_ he pronounced slowly and clearly for Mikey's benefit. He turned to April wearily, "It's an additional, translucent eye-lid that some reptiles and birds have to protect their eyes."

"Oh," April said, blushing, "Sorry, I - when he said - "

"See?!" Mikey said, "I _told _you!" He stuck his tongue out at April. He looked so petulant that she couldn't help but giggle sheepishly. Mikey was never one to hold a grudge, and once she started laughing, his expression softened, and he began to smile, too.

"I've gotta get back to the lab," Donnie groaned, "April, next time you need to know any, uh - turtle stuff, just…maybe?…"

"You'll be the _first_ one I call," she promised.

Donnie turned a bit red at this, and giggled nervously. "Ah, hehe - o-okay, then."

"Psst," Mike stage-whispered, leaning in with a mischievous grin, "Ask him about his _'__Clay Aiken.__'_"

"_MIKEY!" _

"That's what he told us to call our tail sl - "

But Donnie had sprinted over, and slapped a hand over Mikey's mouth, dragging him forcibly over the back of the couch and towards the dojo.

"Don't mind him!" he said, his voice high-pitched and forced, "He is suffering from a _deplorable_ excess of vocabulary today! Heh!"

He gave him a shove through the dojo doors.

"Raph! _Sic __'__im!_"

"Welp. That's all the excuse_ I _need."

April heard the sound of Raph cracking his knuckles, and giggled as Mikey let out a girlish yelp.


	22. 022 Abandoned

**2007 verse. M for language. **

022\. Abandoned

_Where the hell _are_ you?_

Don finally stopped pacing, as he heard the garage door squeal open, and Raph's soft curse.

He hadn't heard the bike - he must have cut the engine and pushed it the rest of the way, not wanting to wake anybody.

_Yeah - not like I'm sitting up out of my mind waiting for you, asshole. Not like we have _work _in the morning. Not like - _

There was a loud, metallic clatter, and another curse from the garage.

_That's my - toolbox…_

Don's eyes widened as he could immediately picture what was happening. He just needed to know how bad it was.

He darted out of his lab and towards the garage, ignoring Mikey's sleepy "Hm? Wha?" from the couch. The noise must have woken him.

Sure enough, when he crested the door, he found Raph, heavily draped over his workbench, his toolbox lying on its side on the concrete floor, tools scattered everywhere. His mask was off, tied around his arm, which was a bloody mess. There was a trail of blood spatter leading back from the workbench to the bike.

Injured. He turned off the engine and _pushed_ that bike here - injured.

_Idiot._

"Get over here," Don snapped.

"S'fine," Raph growled. He looked up at Don, and he could see bruising around his neck, like…someone had wrapped a chain —

"_Now!" _

"I _said_ I'm - "

He tried to straighten up and take a step away from the bench, but he stumbled and blinked as though he were drunk.

_For all I know, he could be. Probably blood loss, though, or maybe a concussion__…__it__'__s a sad state of affairs when I__'__m _wishing_ he was drunk._

Unable to hide the extent of his injury anymore, Raph allowed himself to be dragged along by Don towards the lab, leaving a trail of blood on the floor behind them.

"H…Hey, Raph," Mikey said, as they entered the living room.

He was standing by the sofa, fingertips pressed together, poised on the balls of his feet as though ready for flight. He looked so young.

"Go to bed," Don ordered, "You have work in the morning."

"Is he - "

"_Bed!__"_ Don snapped.

"M'okay, Mike," Raph slurred, "You know me…"

"_Do we, Raph?__"_ Don thought, _"__Do we really?__"_

"Um. 'Kay," Mikey said, mildly, "G'nite."

"Good night, Mikey," Don said, feeling bad for snapping.

Raph landed heavily in the metal stool in Don's lab, and Don immediately took out the tackle box for sutures, and started untying Raph's mask.

"Fell…off the bike," Raph tried, experimentally.

Don gave the wound a cursory glance.

"And then the ground _shot_ you, right?"

Raph just gritted his teeth and looked away.

"Whatever."

Don set to work, cleaning the wound and prepping the sutures. Raph didn't even flinch when the needle passed through his flesh.

"I didn't see him," Raph admitted, not making eye contact.

"That supposed to make me feel better?"

Raph scowled. Then, muttering so quietly he almost missed it: "He was on my six."

Misery sank heavy in Donatello's gut, like it was trying to drag him to the floor.

"Stupid. You'd think I'd be used to it, by now."

They fell into silence again as Don finished the stitches, and bathed the area in disinfectant one more time.

"Don't yell at Mike," Raph said, suddenly, "It ain't his fault."

"No," Don agreed, softly, "It's not."

_It's yours. ___

_This is all your fault, Leo. _

April had said he wasn't coming home. Said they called him "The Ghost of the Jungle," now.

He wasn't the Ghost of the Jungle.

The jungle actually _had_ him.

He was the Ghost of New York. The Ghost of _this family_.

And for the second time that night, Don found himself asking a ghost: 

_Where the hell _are_ you?_


	23. 023 Dreams

**023\. Dreams**

"What's that?"

"_Nothing.__"_

Damn. He'd said it too fast - now they'd never let it -

"Whoops!" Mikey said, worming his fingers under his arm and tickling his pit.

"No! Ahaha - STOP IT!"

But he had dropped it, Mikey catching it with his toes (like a freaking monkey) and flicking it over to Raph. He tore open the envelope, took out the glossy magazine inside, and perused it with an amused expression, until -

The amusement slid off his face, replaced with disgust.

"Seriously?! _Man_, you're a nerd."

"Yes, _thank you,_ Raphael," Don blushed, trying to snatch the packet back out Raphael's hands. He just jerked it out of his reach casually.

"What is it?" Leo asked, trying to feign idle curiosity from his place on the couch. He acted like he was so above his brothers' hijinks, but Donnie noticed he had done nothing to interrupt them, either.

"See for yourself," Raph groused, and flung it at Leo's head, stomping off to the kitchen.

Leo leafed through the pamphlet, his eyes widening.

"It's a brochure for Princeton University."

"You're leaving us?!" Mikey wailed, gripping onto Donnie's arm.

"Of _course_ not," Donnie snapped, trying to disentangle his arm from Mikey's vice grip.

"So why do you even have this, then?" Leo asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, "I mean, even if you _did _get in, even if you _weren__'__t_ a mutant turtle, you know we don't have the kind of money to - "

"I did."

"What?"

"I did get in," Donnie said, folding his arms belligerently.

Stunned silence.

"Incidentally, I also got into Stanford, and MIT. Harvard turned me down. Not enough extracurriculars. Can't exactly be captain of the debate team when you're homeschooled in a sewer."

"But…you can't go," Leo whispered, his eyes wide.

"I _know _that," Donnie spat, bitterly, "I just wanted to see if I _could_, okay? And now you know why I wanted to keep it to _myself._"

"I…I don't know what to say," Leo stammered, sadly, "Congratulations?"

"Yeah, _thanks_," Donnie said, snatching the brochure out of Leo's hand and heading for the lab, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go crawl back under my rock."

"Don't know what you're bitching about," Raph grumbled from the fridge, mouth half-full of cold pizza, "You did this to yourself."

"Raph, don't be a jerk!" Mikey pouted. He grabbed Donnie's hand before he could close the door.

"You wanna teach me some more chess?"

"No, Mikey."

"How 'bout we - "

"Leave me _alone_."

"Kay," Mikey pouted.

Don sighed, and closed the door to the lab, determined to lose himself in his research for a while.

It was hours later, when a soft knock at the lab door snapped him out of a fitful sleep. He wiped the drool off his face and the desk with his wrist wrap, and touched his forehead painfully - yep, he had keyboard grid on his forehead again.

"C'min," he said, his voice hoarse from disuse.

A crack of warm yellow light appeared against the antiseptic blue of his monitor, and -

"April!"

He sat up right away, hurriedly checking the corners of his mouth for more drool.

"I uh - nobody told me - hi!"

_Smooth, Donatello._

April just grinned. "Mikey invited me for dinner. You almost slept through it - why don't you come grab a bite?"

He wasn't really hungry, but if April suggested he might like to sit on a tack and eat bugs for a while, he'd probably ask her to pass the ketchup.

"Sure."

He followed her into the den, squinting at the brighter light, when -

"_Surprise!" _

Don nearly jumped out of his skin as his brothers hollered, and Mikey popped up like a Jack-in-the-Box and dumped confetti on his head.

"Are you surprised?" he asked, his blue eyes wide, "You look surprised."

Don blinked. They were all gathered around the kitchen table, _sensei_ too, even Casey. Brightly colored construction paper was dangling off a string from the ceiling, each page a single letter, spelling "U R SMART." And sitting on the table was -

"Is that…cake?" Donnie asked, his eyes wide, "But - it's not Mutation Day."

It was stacked high, and appeared to be chocolate. It had purple roses on it, neatly done, obviously from a store. Donnie winced - he didn't want April spending her money on him. Piped messily on its top in Mikey's handwriting was "E=MC2" and a green blob with a purple stripe across it, what Donnie assumed was supposed to be him smiling.

"You deserve a little celebration," April smiled, and he tried not to blush as she tucked her arm in his elbow and started leading him to the table.

"It was Mikey's idea," she whispered, sotto voce, "Smile."

Don didn't really have to try that hard. Even though it stung, knowing this particular dream wasn't ever going to come true - maybe some other ones would, instead.

As he got closer to the table, he saw -

"My acceptance letters," he said, his brow raising to the ceiling. They were all laying on the table neatly framed. He turned to April, "You kept them? I said you could throw them out."

"Of course we would not throw them out," Splinter answered for April, "These are going on the wall in the dojo. I am very proud of you, my son."

"Great job, Donnie," Leo echoed.

"Nice goin' egghead," Casey grinned, the broad gap in teeth showing.

Donnie grinned back. Even Casey seemed genuinely happy for him.

Raphael slouched by the kitchen counter, arms folded. He didn't say anything, but when he looked up at Donnie, he could see the guilty expression in his green eyes. He felt bad about before. Don tried to smile reassuringly.

"D'you like it?" Mike asked, practically vibrating out of his shell with excitement.

"Thanks…I really do, this was - thank you, everybody," Don said, warmly.

They shared a great meal of pizza gyoza, fresh from Murakami's (and on the house, once he had learned of Donatello's accomplishments.) They dug into the cake, Mikey insisting that he get the piece with his blobby icing portrait. It felt weird cutting into a cake without singing Happy Mutation Day, so they sang "Happy College Acceptance Letters To You" but the syllables didn't fit, and they were all off-key and finished at different times, so they just dissolved into laughter, and applauded as Don made the first cut.

Later, Donnie and Casey walked April home.

"I hope that was okay," she said anxiously, "I told Mikey I wasn't sure if…I know how badly you'd like to go."

"It's fine," Don said, and actually meant it, "It's great just to know that you…all care."

"'Course we do," Casey grinned, "'Sides, you don't need some fancy diploma or whatever. We all know you're Super Nerd."

"Heh. Thanks, I think? Just don't spend money on me anymore!"

"Please. Murakami's was free, and the cake was grocery store," April soothed.

"An' I got the frames at the dollar store. No big."

Don blinked. He didn't realize Casey had chipped in.

"Okay, this is me," April said, flinging her arms around Donnie as they reached her ladder. Donnie breathed in the scent of her shampoo, but only for a second, as Casey was standing right there. He got his hug next, and Donnie casually glanced away, trying not to be too awkward.

"'Night, Red," Casey said, watching her butt as she climbed the ladder. Don scowled a bit, then got distracted as his eyes wandered to the same place. Once she reached the top, she waved one last time, then slid the manhole cover shut.

"Shall we?" Don said, gesturing down the tunnel that led to Casey's apartment.

"You don't gotta go with," Casey said, waving his hand casually, "I know my way."

"You sure?" Donnie asked, "It's not that far, I don't mind."

"Nah, I'm good," Casey said, "I'll text you when I get there. Oh hey, Raph told me to give you this once we were alone."

Donnie blinked in surprise. Why would he give something to Casey to give to him? Why not just give it to him himself?

Casey handled him a yellowed, folded up piece of paper.

"He said you'd remember what it was."

"Um, okay. Thanks."

"'Kay, well…G'nite, Alpo-breath."

Don grinned. "Later, Bubble-brain."

"Not if I can help it, Crap Weasel."

"We're not gonna stand here and do the whole alphabet, Dung beetle."

Casey laughed, and waved. Don raised his hand as he disappeared around the bend.

Looking down, he unfolded the yellowed piece of paper, and scowled in confusion. It was a math test…division. Why had Raph? -

He gasped, suddenly, at the memory. The test had Raphael's name on the top, in his painfully awkward child-scrawl, and was marked with a 72%. It was the first time Raph had gotten a passing grade in Math since they'd started multiplying and dividing. Don had stayed up half the night helping Raph cram, pushing M&amp;M's around the kitchen table.

"_See," he said, "I've got sixteen M&amp;M's. Now what if I wanna put them in groups of four?" _

_Raph scowled, and moved the M&amp;M's into four groups of four. _

"_There, see?" Donnie said, the 's' sound whistling a bit through his gap, "Now how many groups are there?"_

"_Four." _

"_So that's division," Donnie said, "Sixteen divided by four is four. Get it?"_

_Raph stared intensely at the groups of M&amp;M's. His green eyes glazed with unshed tears in the soft light of the kitchen, and shook his head. _

_Donnie sighed, and put a hand gently on Raph's shell. _

"_It's okay. Let's try again. Now, I've got sixteen M&amp;M's, here. What if we put them in groups of eight?"_

"_I don't - " Raph started, then he scowled, and jabbed his finger at the page of practice problems under the M&amp;M's, making them scatter slightly, "I get that, but how is that…this?!" _

"_Just try," Don said, gently, "Put them in groups of eight." _

_Raph sighed, and did as he was told. "Two," he said, "There's two groups. So eighteen divided by two - wait - _

"_Sixteen," Donnie corrected gently, "Sixteen divided by eight." _

"_Ugh!" Raph leaned away from the table and folded his arms across his plastron._

"_But you got the right answer!" Don said, "You knew it was two groups, you just said the wrong numbers, that's all."_

"_How is saying the wrong numbers getting the right answer?!"_

"_One more."_

"_Donnie, I'm never gonna - "_

"_One more. Put them in groups of two." _

_Raph sighed, and lined the M&amp;M's up two by two. _

"_Okay, sixteen M&amp;M's," he grumbled, "Divided by two…there's one, two, three…eight rows…so…"_

"_So?" Don prompted, encouragingly._

"_Sixteen…divided by…two…is…eight?"_

_Don beamed, and picked up a red M&amp;M. "Ah!" _

_Raph puffed out his cheeks with a sigh of relief, and opened his mouth so Don could toss it in. He crunched it with the barest ghost of a smile._

"_Okay," Don said, "Now we've got fifteen M&amp;M's. Let's put them in groups of five." _

Don stood in the sewer looking at the old test page…it was worn along the folds, had a small hole in its center, so he knew it had been opened and closed many times over the years. Written on the bottom, in more confident, controlled penmanship, Raph had left him a note.

"_I always knew you were the smart one." _

Folding the paper and pressing it to his plastron, Don closed his eyes, and smiled against the lump in his throat.

He'd have to ask April to pick up some M&amp;M's.

**A/N: BONUS TURTLE TOTS, bringin' the FEELS. XD Unfortunately, I'm moving soon, so I'm not going to be able to update as often for a while. :/ Hang in there, though! I won't abandon this challenge. :) **


	24. 024 Teamwork

**So remember how I said I wasn****'t gonna update? I LIED. Yeah, reality bites, MOAR TURTLES PLZ. Also, I don't know what this obsession with the Turtle Tots is, but I'm just gonna roll with it. I would totally watch an entire series that was JUST Turtle Tots. Like Muppet Babies. XD Turtle Baaaabieeees they make your dreams come truuuue…**

024\. Teamwork

"But sensei, you didn't say - "

"It should be self-explanatory, Michelangelo," Splinter said, with his sternest tone, "That _'__grounded__'_ also means no cookies."

Michelangelo pouted and shuffled his feet on the ground, as Splinter took the cookie jar off the counter and placed it on top of the refrigerator.

"Besides," he said, sternly, "You will spoil your appetite, and you need to eat your dinner."

"Worms and algae," Raphie grumbled, "Again."

"That is what little turtles eat if they want to grow up big and strong," Splinter countered, playing to Raphael's vanity - he knew he prided himself on being the strongest.

"But it's not fair!" Michelangelo whined, "No TV, no comics, extra training, and now no _cookies?!_"

"Perhaps you should have thought of that," Splinter said, sternly, "Before you all elected to play kickball in the _lair_. Now. I am going to have a cup of tea, with my _one_ remaining teacup. I suggest you get started on your homework."

"Why do we even call it 'homework?'" Donatello muttered sulkily, "We're_ always_ home."

"Your _schoolwork_, then," Splinter said, his tone making it clear that the last of his patience was rapidly evaporating.

Donnie barely hid a resentful scowl, biting back a retort that the never went to school either, and Splinter sighed inwardly - he knew Donatello wanted so badly to go to "real school," even after he had tried, time and time again, to explain why that was impossible.

Begrudgingly, the boys trudged off to the den where their books and notebooks lay scattered.

Splinter made his tea, sat heavily at the kitchen table, and inhaled its fragrant, grassy aroma, his shoulders finally unclenching. For a moment, everything was peaceful. Then:

"Quit it!" Leo hissed.

"Make me!" Raphael whispered back, smugly.

Splinter's ears flattened against his head in annoyance. These two again. Like oil and water. Cautiously, he listened as they dropped back into silence…maybe this time, the situation would just -

"Ow! I said _quit it_, Raphie!"

"_You_ started it!"

"I did _not!_"

A scuffle broke out, and Splinter set his cup down with an exasperated thunk.

"Boys, focus on your work!"

But they ignored him, already sparring in the middle of the den. Michelangelo and Donnie looked up at Splinter guiltily and then vaulted over the couch, to be out of the path of destruction.

"Boys!" Splinter barked, angrily, "Your _sensei_ is speaking to you!"

They continued to throw clumsy punches and kicks at one another with ridiculous, loud _kiai_, no doubt, assured that they were fierce, intimidating warriors. The disobedience was one thing, but the terrible form was inexcusable.

"_Boys!__"_

He finally stomped over and dragged them apart from one another.

"_Yame!__"_ he snapped, and gave each of them a sharp rap on the back of the head.

"That was a disgraceful, _shameful _display!" he snapped, "Fighting outside of the dojo - ignoring your _sensei?!_ And your form! Have you forgotten_ everything _I have taught you?"

"Sorry, _sensei_," Leo muttered, then pointed a chubby finger at Raphael, "But he! - "

"I do not care, Leonardo," Splinter snapped, "It takes two people to fight, and you should know better by now."

Raphael smirked smugly as Leo got scolded.

"As for _you,_" Splinter hissed, rounding on him, "I have warned you about your temper, Raphael. And I _know_ you were baiting your brother."

"But - "

"_Ie!_ No buts! The two of you have earned yourselves an extra two days! And this ridiculous feud between you ends now. You are brothers - somehow, you are _going_ to learn to work together, as a team. _Hai?_"

"_Hai, sensei,_" they mumbled contritely.

"Now. Go to your room. All of y - "

He turned and saw, guiltily, that Michelangelo and Donnie had already slunk to the top of the stairs, and were waiting patiently in their doorway.

"…Hm."

Splinter returned to the kitchen table, and threw himself gracelessly into his chair, watching as Leo and Raph slunk guiltily up the stairs to join their brothers in their shared room.

"I expect silence," he called up warningly.

"_Hai, sensei,__"_ they mumbled together, as the door clicked shut behind them. Splinter heaved a weary sigh. The way they were fighting lately, he was going to have to get them separate rooms sooner than he'd planned. That one was big enough to split into two…but he'd have to clear out the other -

_Blech!_ He spat his tea back into the cup. Cold already.

Shaking his head in annoyance, he stood, and dumped it into the sink, reaching for the kettle to pour himself a fresh cup. As he reached for it, though, his eye glanced at the top of the refrigerator -

where the cookie jar had mysteriously vanished.

He stared in disbelief for a moment.

_No. Surely not. _

But there could be no other explanation.

Setting the kettle down, and moving in stealthy silence, he mounted the stairs, and pressed a sensitive rat-like ear to the door of his sons' room.

"…sorry that you got extra-grounded though," Mikey was whispering.

"At least it worked," Raphael whispered, "Good job, Leo."

"You guys did good, too," Leo said, "It's a good thing Donnie's so tall."

"And that I'm so little!" Mikey piped up.

"Hurry up already!" Raph whispered.

"I'm counting!" Donnie hissed, "Okay, eighteen divided by four…that's four each with two left over."

"You guys should have 'em," Mikey whispered, "Because you got extra grounded."

"You can have mine, Mikey," Leo whispered, fondly, "You like 'em the most."

"Really?! You're the _best, _Leo!"

"Shhh!" Raph and Donnie hissed together.

"Shhh!" Leo shushed the shushers.

Splinter shook his head and was raising his fist to knock, when he stopped himself.

His boys deserved so much, and were afforded so little. Donatello deserved to go to "real school." Michelangelo deserved a playground to play in, and friends…they deserved to feel sunlight on their faces. All he had to give, he offered them, but it was never enough. They had so few simple pleasures in life…and at least they were working together and getting along, for once. And he had to admit he was somewhat impressed with Donatello and Michelangelo's stealth. Apparently, Michelangelo _could_ be quiet, given a compelling enough reason.

He let his hand fall, and carefully stole back down the steps, smirking despite himself.

Perhaps after dinner, he'd decide to be generous, and declare they each deserved a cookie for their good behavior.

_Let__'__s see how they handle that._


	25. 025 Dying

**025\. Dying**

"Happily Ever After."

It's a nice thought.

The "happily" part is pleasant enough. And "after," of course, implies a continuation, reaching out indefinitely into the future.

It's the "ever" that's the tricky part. Because "Happily Ever After" is, of course, an ending - and endings, by their very nature, are the antithesis of "ever."

"Ever" was beginning to feel like an awfully long time to Donatello.

He winced, the pain in his knees rousing him from his groggy musings. Where the hell?…he glanced out the window. Oh right. The farmhouse. The last of the autumn leaves trembled on nearly-denuded branches, scraps of red and gold, while the stoic pines looked on impassively, still draped in their greenery. He adjusted the blanket in his lap…he could never seem to stay warm these days, and his joints ached terribly, nearly all the time.

There was a knocking at the door.

"Mm?" Don cleared his throat, "Come in."

A middle-aged woman with graying, reddish-brown hair came in, carrying a glass of water.

"Georgie," Don sighed, smiling.

"How you feeling?" she smiled back.

"Old," Don replied, truthfully, and Georgia laughed.

"Well, it's time for meds again," she said, crossing to his dresser and reading the labels on a few orange bottles before finally selecting one, "So you'll be feeling better soon."

"Mm," Don offered, noncommittally. At this point, he didn't think he'd ever really feel better, but he obediently swallowed his pain pills with a glass of water, and leaned back into the rocker, swaying gently from his motions.

"Do you want to go to bed, or stay there?" Georgia asked, running a hand over his smooth head.

"I think I'll just stay here," he said slowly, "Where's the girls?"

"Lily is downstairs with Paul," Georgia reported, "They're watching a movie with the kids. And Alexis is back at Vassar, remember?"

He didn't. It was getting harder and harder to keep track of things. He couldn't even remember his newest great grandchild's name. He knew the boy was Yoshi…but the baby? Something with an C? No, the more he tried to remember the more it slipped out of his grasp. His eyelids suddenly felt very heavy, and the pain in his joints was vaguer now, less distinct. Hm. That was quick.

He felt Georgia's lips brush his forehead.

"Get some sleep. I'll check on you in a few hours."

"Mm," Don murmured. He was suddenly very, very tired. The drugs didn't usually work this fast. He dragged himself out of his stupor for one last thing.

"Georgie?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you."

He sensed her smile, rather than saw it, as his eyes were still closed. "Love you, Daddy."

The door clicked shut gently behind her.

It only seemed like moments later when it was flung open again, and he heard a joyful shout:

"Donnie!"

His eyes flew open immediately. He'd know that voice anywhere.

"_April?!" _

It was impossible - could not be - yet there she was, looking young and healthy and beautiful and _alive_, her blue eyes sparkling, her hair still vibrantly red, and without thinking, he sprang out of his seat and ran to her, joyfully wrapping his arms around her, breathing in her scent.

"But - _how?!__"_ he stammered in joyful disbelief, "You - you're…"

But she just gave him a sad little smile, and put a hand on his cheek. Turning to look behind him, he spied his former self slumped in the rocker, unnaturally still, mouth slightly open.

"Ah," he said, "Well, that explains that."

He held up a hand, and examined it - the skin was no longer loose and grayish…it was young and firm and a vibrant olive green. April wound her fingers through his in their familiar, awkward fit, and he turned to face her again.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured reverently, "I almost forgot how beautiful."

"You forgot?" she teased.

"Almost," Donnie beamed, his eyes heavy-lidded with affection.

Smiling, April tilted her head up and closed her eyes, and like coming home, he lowered his lips to hers, and as joy flooded through him he heard an abrupt cough from the hallway, and -

"Sheesh. Get a room, you two."

Donnie interrupted the kiss with a soft "smack" and his jaw dropped in delight, because there he was, standing in the hallway: young and smirking and with two green eyes shining back at him through the red of his mask, no ugly, jagged scar dragging from his forehead all the way down to his chin…

"Raph!"

He rushed to meet him and threw his arms around his brother, tears prickling the corners of his own brown eyes.

"I _missed_ you," he said, fervently, realizing as he spoke just how true it was.

"We missed you too, Donnie," Raph admitted gruffly.

"_Oof!" _

Don was nearly bowled over as Mikey crashed into them, squeezing them both tight.

"_Donniiiiiieeeeeee!_ Took you_ long_ enough, dude!"

"Sorry," Don apologized sheepishly.

"No worries," Leo said, strolling into view at the bottom of the staircase, with Karai on his arm, "We waited."

Casey leaned over the staircase railing as well, to wave hello, and he was whole and hearty and _strong_, not a single sign of the gaping gunshot wound that -

"'Sup, egghead? You take good care of my girl?"

"_Our_ girl," Don smirked, sliding a hand around April's waist, "You may have had her first, but I had her last."

Casey threw back his head and laughed, just the way he always used to.

"Huh," Don said, glancing back at the room he had just left. It already seemed so far away…his former self so small. He felt a little guilty leaving him there - him? Himself?

"It's okay, sweetheart," April prompted, gently.

"Georgia…"

"Georgie's a Grandma," Casey said, arms draped over the banister, "She's all grown up, Don. We did our job." 

"She'll be okay," April promised.

"I didn't…" Don held up his hand again, turned it forwards and backwards, examining it, "I didn't really _expect _any of this."

"Surprise!" Mikey said, and they all laughed.

"Yeah," Don chuckled, "But…"

"Here he goes," Raph said, shaking his head with a wry grin, "I _told_ ya."

"What if none of this is real? What if this is just some…hallucination or something? You know, neurons firing randomly while things shut down?"

"_Buzzkill,__" _Raph coughed into his fist, and Mikey snorted.

"Is it a nice hallucination?" April asked softly in his ear.

Don took in the sight of his brothers, his family…inhaled the scent of April's shampoo - he'd almost forgotten, but now it was all rushing back, and his eyes were prickling again…

"Yes," he said, turning to gaze into her blue eyes, "This is, by far, the best hallucination I've ever had."

"Well there's another 'hallucination' here who's been waiting a long time for you," Leo said, smiling warmly. He and Karai stepped to the side, making way for -

Don heard the tapping of the walking stick before he ever came into view, and his heart skipped a beat, and instantly, he felt like a child again.

"_Dad,__"_ he whispered, his tears finally overflowing, and he was running now, taking the stairs two at a time, and the years seemed to fall off of him as he ran, until he crashed into his father's midriff, his chubby child-like arms barely able to meet around his waist, face wet with tears buried in the comforting scent of his fur.

"Welcome home, my son," Splinter murmured, stroking his head.

And at long last, they all lived happily ever after.


	26. 026 Childhood

**Rated M. This one gets intense real quick.**

**026\. Childhood**

Reclining in bed, exhausted and deliciously sated, Leo pressed his face into Karai's hair and inhaled deeply.

"Are you smelling me?" she muttered sarcastically, her head pillowed on his shoulder.

"Mm-hm," he rumbled, shamelessly content.

"What do I smell like?"

"Delicious."

"You are so corny."

"Speaking of delicious corn - "

"Oo, segue."

"Are you hungry? I should warn you though, the only thing I can make without burning the house down is peanut butter sandwiches."

"Seriously? You're like a little kid."

"Mikey always cooked."

Leo laughed softly.

"This one time, when we _were _little kids, Mikey had a bad cold…so I decided I was going to make him breakfast, because he always did it for us. I had so much trouble with the eggs I forgot about the toaster, which, I had somehow damaged, and it caught on fire."

"…How do you damage a _toaster?_"

Leo laughed again.

"That's exactly what Don said. I think I pushed the thing down too hard? I dunno. It got stuck, and started to smoke, but I thought it was the eggs at first, and then…poof. Flames."

Karai smirked, and shook her head, wrapping her arm around Leo's chest and cuddling in to him. Leo felt a surge of joy in his chest, and couldn't believe his luck, couldn't believe she was really here, naked body pressed up against him without fear or disgust or ulterior motive.

"What were you like?" Leo murmured lazily into her hair, "As a kid?"

Karai became strangely still in his arms.

"I bet you were cute," he smiled, dreamily, "I bet you were tough as nails, and didn't - "

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, coldly.

Leo's smile faded. Of course she wouldn't want to talk about growing up with the Shredder…not now that she was finally free. But then again…she had to deal with it some time. He knew that whatever she said, however much she acted like she didn't care, never missed him - it was still haunting her, even years later.

"It can't have been all bad," he prompted, tenderly.

Karai just lay there in stony silence.

"Okay, just tell me one thing. Anything. Something silly, like…what was your favorite TV show? Or, did you have a favorite toy growing up?…Did you have any pets?"

He waited a long time for her to respond, and with each passing second, he grew more worried, felt like she was drawing further and further away from him, until:

"A dog."

Leo blinked in surprise. "Really? Huh."

Karai said nothing further.

"I didn't think you were…dog people."

Again, Karai was silent.

"What kind of dog? What was his name? His? Her?"

"An Akita inu," Karai said, stiffly, "He. His name was Hachiko."

"Hachiko," Leo repeated, with a smile, "Cute."

He placed a gentle peck on her head, and decided to leave it there, not push. They lay in silence together for a moment, but then, in the soft darkness, Karai began quietly to speak.

"So…I guess I was about six or seven. And…I wanted a dog. I saw normal families on television, and I knew that's not what we were…but I thought even if I couldn't go to school like a normal kid, or have a Mom, or brothers and sisters to play with…at least if I had a dog, I'd have someone to - "

She cut herself off abruptly. Leo waited patiently, didn't finished the sentence for her - the "L" word was a four-letter word to Karai. He wouldn't made that mistake twice.

"Whatever. I was a kid and I wanted a dog. So I planned and plotted, and stayed on my best behavior. And finally, one day, I worked up my nerve and asked him."

She fell silent again, for a long time. Leo began to wonder if that was the end of the story.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing. Then, the next day, he showed up and handed me a plastic bag with a goldfish inside it."

Leo smirked.

"I was pretty pissed," Karai admitted, "I didn't want a damn goldfish. I didn't even bother naming it, but…I didn't want to just let it die, so. I figured maybe it was a test or something, y'know, see if I could be responsible, and take care of a pet. So I went into the kitchen and I found a big glass vase…and I put it in that. He didn't buy a bowl, or food or anything. So I just crushed up some saltines and fed it that."

Again she drifted off into silence. This time, Leo just waited, knowing that she'd speak when she was ready.

"About a week later," she continued, "Father called me into the kitchen. When I got there, the vase was empty. But he had the blender out. And the fish was in there."

Leo's eyes widened in the dark.

"He looked at me, and told me to hit 'Puree.' I asked him why, and he hit me. Hard. I told him I didn't want to, and he hit me even harder. I was angry. And I didn't want him to…win. So…I did it. I felt bad, at first, but…it was just a fish. I mean - it's not like I'd never eaten sushi before, right?"

Leo didn't reply…didn't know what to say.

"When it was done, he kind of…petted my hair, which he'd never really done before…and told me he was proud of me. He told me the lesson was obedience - that when he gave me an order, I was expected to follow it, even if it was unpleasant."

She paused.

"And then…he told me to wait there. And when he came back - he was holding a kitten. Like a reward."

Leo's heart dropped down into his stomach. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, and he didn't want to know, wanted to tell her that it was okay, that she didn't need to finish the story, but it seemed that now that she had started, Karai didn't know how to stop.

"It still wasn't a dog…but I thought maybe Father just doesn't like dogs. I didn't name it at first, but after a week came and went without incident, I thought it might be safe. So I named him _Kutsushita_…'Socks.' Because it was black and white, you know, with the…paws. He slept with me at night, and I finally had someone to play with for a while…it was…nice."

Leo waited for the inevitable, bracing himself.

"Then, one day…I guess it was about…a year later, maybe. Father called me into the kitchen. And he was holding Kutsu."

"Don't," Leo whispered, "It's okay, you don't have to -

"And he put him in the microwave."

"_Stop," _Leo blurted, involuntarily.

"I begged him, even though I knew it wouldn't do any good. He didn't hit me this time. He didn't even tell me what to do, just stood there with his arms folded. I even attacked him at one point…started punching and hitting him, but…I was just a kid, so. He just stood there and took it, and waited."

Leo closed his eyes in mute horror, unconsciously pulling her even closer to him.

"So," Karai finally said, "When it was…after. He hugged me. Told me he was very proud. He said this time, the lesson wasn't about obedience - it was about weakness. He said that love…always makes you weak. Because no matter what, everything you love will _always _get taken from you, eventually."

Leo lay there staring at the ceiling in silent disbelief.

"I didn't get it then," Karai said, quietly, "I didn't get it until much later, but…he was talking about my mother. And me, I think…he was trying to _explain_ \- why he was always so hard on me, why he always kept me at arms' length…I think?…I think maybe he was…trying to _apologize_."

She sighed.

"So the next day we got Hachiko. Father named him. Said I had earned him, with my loyalty. But…I never loved him."

Her fingers traced the grooves of Leo's plastron idly.

"I guess I learned my lesson," she added, as an afterthought.

Leo felt…empty. Completely gutted.

In a sudden, fluid motion, he positioned himself on top of her, his arms flexing as he held himself up, so he wouldn't crush her. She looked up at him in surprise, and he gazed back into her hazel eyes, wide and startled, so like his father's, yet somehow completely different…

Tenderly, he lifted a hand and stroked her hair, traced his fingers down her cheek. He lowered his head and softly kissed her forehead, gently nuzzled her nose with his…placed a soft kiss on her lips. He felt her writhe under him, trying to open her mouth and turn it into sex, into something she understood, but he pulled back gently as she did, and continued his tender, loving onslaught, kissing her jaw softly, then her neck, sliding his hand to her waist and snaking it underneath her. Laying back on his side, he drew her close in his arms, twining their legs together, and began rubbing soft circles on her back. She went somewhat stiff in his arms as she realized this was not what she thought it was going to be, but he just waited patiently, arms folded around her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear, and replaced his words with a soft kiss, "I'm sorry."

She didn't make a sound, but he felt the exact moment her defenses dropped, felt the way she sagged into his hold. He squeezed her tight, and in that moment, he loved her with all his might, and it felt so tangible, so real to him, he could almost picture it, like a pool of energy, flowing from his body into hers, filling up all the cracks and the dark, empty spaces, and this time when their lips met, there was something almost holy in it.

Unable to bear anymore, Karai broke away, and buried her face under his chin. Leo closed his eyes, and calmly focused on his breathing, until hers slowed, synced, and matched his.

"I think," she finally whispered, her voice sounding small, "I'd really like that sandwich now."

Leo pressed his lips to her hair, and let them linger there firmly, before finally releasing his grip so she could slink out of it.

"Stay," he murmured gently, "I'll bring it."

He didn't even bother making them…just brought the bag of bread, the jar, and a knife, and they sat together in bed and made peanut butter sandwiches together, watching late-night sitcom reruns and not talking.


	27. 027 Deep in Thought

**A/N: I guess we could all use a giggle after that. Rated Teen, for gross teenage boys being gross teenage boys. **

**027 Deep In Thought**

"_BOOM! _That's six! Ah-booya? _Kashaaaaaaa!__"_ Mikey crowed triumphantly, throwing down the controller, leaping up onto the couch, and doing a victory dance which involved twerking vigorously in Raphael's face.

"No way!" Raph said, shoving Mikey away roughly, who only collapsed onto the couch in a fit of giggles, "That was only five!"

"That was siiiiix duuuuude," Mikey sing-songed.

"Prove it!"

"Okay. First I whipped your Johnny Cage. Then I whipped your Liu Kang. Then you said I cheated, so I whipped Liu Kang again. Then you said it wasn't fair for me to play Sonya all the time, so I played Johnny and _you_ played Sonya and I _still_ whipped you. Then it was Raiden vs. Sub-Zero, and then Scorpion vs. Sub-Zero."

He held up both of his hands waggling all his fingers.

"That's six out of ten. Six in a _row._ Clean. _Sweep._" He jabbed a finger at Raph. _"_Hashtag:_ Pwned.__'"_

"Yeah, yeah," Raph griped, "Best out of twenty?"

"Heh," Don mused dreamily from the kitchen table, where he was working on some recreational Physics. "April told me the cutest joke about the number six the other day."

"Donnie, I really don't think you could be more _nauseating_ if you tried," Raphael said, rolling his eyes.

"Castoreum is a natural flavoring used in perfume or certain food products," Don replied without missing a beat, "It comes from a beaver's anus."

Mikey collapsed into peals of delighted laughter. "Beaver's anus!" He pointed at Raphael in glee. "Raph eats _beaver anus!__"_

"Could you _please_ keep it down out there?" Leo called wearily from the dojo. They summarily ignored him.

"You're just making that up," Raph retorted, turning and draping an arm over the back of the couch.

"Castor sacs," Donnie said, calmly, "Used for scent marking, they're located by the anal glands. When milked, they produce a slimy brown substance that - "

"Okay, okay, _God _you suck," Raph groused.

"You swallow," Don muttered under his breath.

"_What _was that?"

"Nothing!"

"Damn _right, _nothing._" _

"Tell me the joke, Donnie!"

"Huh?"

"The joke April told you!"

Don finally turned away from his notebook and smiled as he set his pencil down.

"Okay - why is six afraid of seven?"

"Why?" Mikey asked, his blue eyes wide with anticipation.

"Because seven eight nine," Donnie replied, with a smirk.

"Ugggggh," Raph groaned, "I hate you."

"I thought it was _cute,__"_ Don sniffed huffily, and returned to his notebook.

"You prob'ly think her _farts _are cute."

"Wait - I don't get it," Mikey replied, his brow knit in confusion.

"Seriously?" Raph asked, brow arched with disbelief.

"No," Mikey said, shaking his head in confusion, "Is it something dirty?"

Raph laughed nastily. "Yeah, Mike. It's _real_ dirty. You totally wouldn't get it."

"No it's not," Don chided. He turned to Mikey with a grin. "Try saying it out loud."

"Because…seven eight nine?" Mikey recited, still bewildered.

"Forget it, Mikey," Don sighed, returning to his work.

Mikey shrugged, and picked up his controller, determined to defend his winning streak.

He was oddly quiet at dinner, however, and surprisingly, went straight to bed afterwards, opting out of a Streetfighter rematch with Raphael.

Donnie had already long forgotten about it by the time training rolled around the next morning, though he did notice Michelangelo seemed unusually focused - even to the degree that Splinter had praised him for it. After they had finished, they stretched together, and then settled into position to meditate, as usual. Even doing his least favorite activity, Michelangelo was much quieter and much less squirmy than usual. Donnie didn't really care much for meditation either, but he could tell that Leo and _sensei _at least, were grateful for the uncharacteristic quiet, and were enjoying their meditation without its usual accompaniment of impatient sighing, scratching, sniffing, and throat-clearing.

Donnie didn't really care to empty his mind, but he found even _he _was enjoying the tranquility, as he contemplated a particular chain of polymers in the retromutagen formula, and whether he might possibly -

"_**HAH!" **_

They all nearly leapt out of their skins as Mikey exploded next to them.

"_BECAUSE SEVEN __**ATE**__ NINE!" _

And, with a look of shocked dismay still plastered on his face, Raph farted.

Mikey immediately erupted into uncontrollable giggles, pointing a finger at Raph.

"_Dude!" _

Donnie couldn't help it. He buried in face in his palm and burst into raucous, uncontainable laughter right along with Michelangelo.

"I - you - startled me!" Raph stammered, his face nearly as red as his mask.

"Michelangelo!" Splinter scolded, in appalled disbelief, "Donatello, don't encourage him! _You are supposed to be ninja!__" _

But it was way too late. Donnie collapsed helplessly onto his side, gripping his plastron with both hands, his stomach cramping with uncontrollable laughter.

"_Shut up!__"_ Raph snapped, and punched Mikey in the arm, hard, which only seemed to make Mikey laugh harder, even as he winced, and rubbed it.

"Oh, go milk a beaver anus!" Mikey howled, and Donnie began pounding the dojo floor with his fist, completely unable to breathe.

They all had to do flips. Well, all except for perfect Leo, who just watched them with a dubious, slightly concerned expression on his face while he polished his katana.

Raph got off easy - just ten for punching his brother, and he stormed off to his room. Donnie and Mikey however, got twenty, and every time one of them snorted or giggled, _sensei _made them start over at one. Every time they got close to "seven eight nine," though…

They ended up doing thirty-two, all told.

Finally, sweaty, exhausted, and completely laughed out, they dropped to the floor as _sensei _grunted, and swept out of the dojo. Panting, they fist-bumped wearily, and began stretching again.

"Guys," Leo murmured, keeping his voice conspiratorially low. He turned and checked the doorway quickly before turning back to them, "I'm not gonna get mad, just…Please. I need you to be honest with me."

"Yeah, Leo," Donnie sighed.

"What is it, bro?"

"Are you guys snorting weed?"

Another fit of helpless laughter brought _sensei _steaming back into the dojo, and earned them an hour on their hands and knees, scrubbing the bathroom until it sparkled.

**A/N: I heard two kids tell this "7 8 9" joke in a pizza parlor today, and the little brother literally didn't get it. He got there eventually, but it was pretty adorable watching him try to figure it out. XD **


	28. 028 Booyakasha

"What does that even _mean?__"_ Raph grunted in annoyance, sweeping the leg of another Purple Dragon casually. Their minds were really only about forty percent on the fight at hand, and that was being generous - then again, the Purple Dragons really didn't need that much of their attention.

"What does _what_ mean?" Mikey asked innocently, grinning as he deflected one of the Dragon's switchblades with his chucks. Raph shook his head, grinning in spite of himself, as he calmly side-stepped his own opponent's clumsy swing. Mikey coulda had this guy ten times over by now, but he was obviously having too much fun.

"You know what."

"Ohhhhh," Mikey said dramatically, pretending to catch on, "You mean - _BOOYAKASHAAAAA!__"_

He jumped up into the air like a little green flea, did a completely unnecessary roundhouse kick, and sent his opponent staggering backwards, spitting a tooth out and looking like a kicked puppy. Which, essentially - he was.

"It's actually urban slang for the sound of a gunshot," Donatello supplied, in his annoying "this is really interesting" voice, his bo whiffing through the air and clacking as he blocked and parried. "The first part, at least. Its first occurrence was with the rise of West-Coast hip hop culture in the late nineteen eighties, though in its original truncated form - "

"Ugh, forget I asked," Raph said, gut-punching the guy in front of him. He made a familiar, panicked, cross-eyed expression.

"We got a spewer!" Raph warned.

Friend and foe alike stepped back hastily as the Purple Dragon upchucked all over the alley pavement and collapsed to his knees.

"Hah! Nice," Mike giggled, taking a pause from his fight to fist-bump Raph. He then put that fist to better use, blocking the bloody-gummed gangster's retaliatory swing, "And _'__Booyakasha__' _has nothing to do with _guns,_ Donnie! _Gross!_ As _if.__"_

"I'm just telling you the etymology," Donnie sniffed, "If you're going to go around shouting things, you should probably - "

"Isn't that what the army guys yell?" Leo said, casually knocking his opponent cold with the pommel of his katana and slouching against a building. Raph didn't even realize he had been listening.

"That's 'hoo-ah,'" Donnie corrected, "Which is derived from 'hoorah,' which is derived from 'hurrah,' which was originally 'huzzah,' which was - "

"Now look what you did," Raph grunted at Leo accusingly. He crouched down next to his adversary, who was on all fours near the puddle of his own sick, clutching his stomach and groaning. "Hey, man. Y'aright? You need a hospital?"

The thug hissed some highly derogatory curse words in reply.

Raph shrugged. "Aright, heck wit' you, then."

He knocked him out cold with the handle of his sai.

"And they say I'm not a nice guy."

"Was that really necessary?" Leo griped, arms still folded. They were distracted, however, as with a final _kiai,_ Donnie swept the legs out from under his opponent with his bo.

"Stay down!" he snarled, trying to sound all macho. Raph snorted. I mean really, it was the Purple Peens. Way to go, Rambo.

"_What?!__"_ Donnie replied, giving Raph a petulant glance. Raph just smirked and held his hands up defensively.

"Mikey, quit playing with your food," Leo called, "We're done here."

"Awwww. One more!"

"Fine. Make it a good one."

Dodging one last clumsy attack, Mikey crouched, then sprang up into a beautiful back flip, his accompanying kick crashing into the Dragon's jaw, lifting him off his feet and sending him collapsing into a dumpster, out cold. Mikey landed like a cat: lightly, and crouched on all fours.

"_YEAH!__"_ he shouted, "Thass _wassup,_ fool! _BOOYAKASHA!__"_

"Yes, very nice," Leo said, rolling his eyes - but he was smiling. "We sure showed these hopelessly outclassed delinquents who's boss."

"Damn straight!" Mikey crowed jubilantly. He course-corrected as Leo raised a brow warningly, "I mean…you're…_darn_ tootin'…friend."

"Take the stick out, Leo," Raph said amiably, cracking his neck, "He don't mean anything by it."

"If he gets in the habit, then he's gonna forget when we're sparring," Leo nagged, "And then it's flips for everybody."

Raph smirked and rubbed Mikey's scalp affectionately, ruffling his bandana tails.

"Just stick to nonsense words. Okay?"

Mikey beamed sheepishly at the attention. "Can do, Kalamazoo!"

"Kalamazoo is in Michigan," Donnie mumbled to nobody.

They ignored him and took to the rooftops again.


	29. 029 Keeping A Secret

**029 Keeping a Secret. Rated a hard M! Out of the pool, kids: Adult Swim. SERIOUSLY.****  
**

**Michaelangelo - Age 17**

"Hey, uh, Mikey?"

"What's good, D?"

"Uh…noth…ing? Or is it everything? I don't really know what you're supposed to - things are _fine._ I just have to talk to you about something. Not a big deal," he added hastily.

"Okay," Mike said, suspiciously, sitting on the edge of Donnie's desk. Normally Don would scold him for it, but today…he had bigger fish to fry.

"Remember how…oh geez."

Donnie took a deep breath, mopped his face, and started again.

"Remember how…I had that little talk with you and the guys about…clearing your web history?"

Mikey laughed abruptly.

"Yeah, you said - "

Mikey cut himself off, his eyes going round. He glanced at Donnie nervously, who just smiled back patiently.

"I forg - I mean…that wasn't me. I'm not, like - I was just…"

Don smiled patiently and waited for him to work through his lame denials. Mikey's expression sagged, and Donnie almost laughed out loud: his green, freckled face was mottled with patches of red - he looked comically miserable.

"You're not gonna tell 'em, right?" he said, in a small voice, and Donnie immediately felt guilty for finding it funny.

"Of_ course _not," Don soothed, "It's really okay, Mikey…Just…if you don't want the others to know yet, then…you gotta be more careful."

"Oh…uh…right. Okay," Mikey said, shuffling his feet nervously, "So…we're cool?"

"Frosty," Don smiled, turning back to his computer, deliberately keeping his tone light and casual, "Why wouldn't we be?"

"So like…you don't think I'm…I dunno."

He looked down at his feet and crossing his arms, rubbed one of his triceps nervously. He said it so quietly Donnie almost missed it:

"A freak'r whatever?"

Donnie's heart tugged beneath his plastron.

"Hey."

He stood up out of his computer chair, and pulled Mike into his arms into a fiercely tight hug. Mike stiffened at first, then hugged him back just as tight.

"Of course I don't. And, strictly for the sake of perspective? We _are_ anthropomorphic turtles who practice ninjutsu," he added, kindly, "So…I think that ship may have sailed."

Mike laughed abruptly.

"Yeah. Heh."

"You're _always_ gonna be my little brother," he said firmly. He added, quietly, "I don't care if you like guys, or…whatever."

"Yeah," Mike grinned lamely, "Not like it really matters, anyway…stuck down here."

Don patted his head. "Chin up. You never know what might happen."

"Yeah, I guess." Mike sighed, and smiled, "Thanks, D. It kinda…feels good. Having somebody who knows."

"Any time," Donnie smiled patiently, "Now get your ass off my desk."

**Raphael - Age 22**

"Hey, man," Casey said on the phone, casually.

Raph sighed and cursed inwardly.

"You almost here?"

"Yeah," Raph whispered, "I, uh…I got a…thing, here…"

Raph shifted from his place on the rooftop and peered down over the edge. The bum down below that he had been staking out had finally fallen asleep. The half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels was temptingly slack in his grip. It would be so easy.

"Dude," Casey said, firmly, "You missed yesterday."

"I been busy," Raph muttered defensively, "Crime doesn't exactly keep business hours."

"Raph - it only works if you work it."

"Don't_ handle_ me, Jones," Raph snapped.

"You missed _Thursday_, too," Casey said, unrelenting, "Not _cool,_ man."

"I'm _fine!__" _Raph insisted guiltily. He wouldn't even wake the guy up. He was out like a light. It'd be like candy from a baby. I mean, clearly this guy couldn't handle his liquor - he'd be doing him a favor. Like taking a bullet for him, kinda. Right?

"Dude. Where are you? Right now."

"On a roof," Raph said, evasively.

"No shit. Give me an address," Casey insisted, firmly.

"I'm not…geez, I'm not _'__in crisis,__'_ or whatever," Raphael snapped. His voice was a little too loud - the bum snorted, and dragged the bottle a little closer to his chest in his sleep.

"_Fuck!__"_ Raphael cursed out loud, tempted to throw the phone down on the roof and smash it, _"__Great!_ That's just - "

He suddenly got an image of himself - as though he were on the adjacent roof, watching himself through binoculars - contemplating using his years of martial arts training to sneak into a dirty alley and steal a half-empty bottle of whiskey from a homeless guy.

"Fuck," Raph whispered solemnly, putting his face in his free hand.

"The _address_, Raph," Casey insisted, a note of panic in his voice.

"No, I'm…" Raph sighed, squeezing his eyes shut in shame, "I'm coming now. I'm on my way."

"Okay," Casey said, relaxing slightly, "The bell tower is unlocked, like always. I'll tell Dan you might be a little late. But you better fucking show. Yeah?"

"Yeah," Raph nodded, his eyes stinging in spite of himself. He thought he was _past_ this already.

"Hey, Case?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, man."

"I _love_ you, Raph," Casey said, firmly.

"Pfft," Raph said, smiling slightly despite the hard lump in his throat, "Okay, ya big queer. Sheesh. I mean, me too, whatever."

He coughed, tried to clear the lump in his throat. Casey didn't say anything, just gave him a minute to compose himself. He always knew: just when to push, and just when to back off. His brothers never knew.

"If you ain't here in ten minutes, I'm hunting you down."

"I'll be there," Raph promised.

"Alright. Ten minutes."

"Yep."

Casey hung up, closed the phone, and closed his eyes, puffing his cheeks out in a long sigh.

"Casey, we need to get started," Dan said, poking his head out into the hallway, "Is your friend coming?"

"He says he's gonna be here in ten minutes. If he's not, I gotta go out and find him."

Dan winced sympathetically.

"It sounds like he's struggling."

Casey huffed in frustration. "Who even knows with him."

"Do you think maybe he'd be willing to introduce himself today?"

Casey shook his head sadly.

"I don't know if he's _ever_ gonna be ready for that," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper, "And I know for _sure_ that not everybody in _there_ is ready for that."

Dan nodded, hesitantly, "From the little you showed me, your friend is definitely…_unique_. But…everyone in that room understands the word 'Anonymous,' Casey."

"I know. I'll…I'll keep working on him."

"That's all you can do." Dan put a hand on Casey's shoulder, "Come on, we gotta start."

Casey nodded, put his T-phone in his jeans pocket and followed Dan into the sanctuary. It was beat up and weary-looking, and the space in front of the altar was full of people sitting in metal folding chairs who looked much the same. An ancient, unsteady-looking folding table held a Box o' Joe from Dunkin', and a half-empty box of stale donuts.

"Okay. Welcome everybody," Dan said, taking his place in the circle, "Serenity Prayer."

Casey took his seat and mumbled along with everyone.

"God grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, courage to change the things we can, and wisdom to know the difference."

He listened politely while the others took turns speaking, but Casey didn't really relax until he heard the rafters creak softly above him from the choir loft, and he knew that Raph was there, watching and listening.

**Leonardo - Age 24**

"Aah…_AAH!_…_Fuck!__" _

"I hate - when you - curse," Leo hissed through gritted teeth.

"Well you - don't get - a vote," Karai sneered between each thrust, "So _fuck_ you - and your - _aah! - pretentious - AAH, right there! Don__'__t sto - op - AAAH!__"_

"_Hnng!" _

Leo grunted, and froze, the world swaying beneath his feet…for a moment he didn't know up from down. His perception shrank to a laser-like focus: he felt a single bead of sweat slide down his temple as his vision swam, cling to the curve of his cheek - it trembled briefly on his jaw, and then fell free. He swore, he could almost hear the sound it made as it landed on her bare breast.

His chest ached, and he realized he was holding his breath. He took a raggedy gasp and his exhale came out as a strangled moan, and he blinked owlishly in the darkness as time sluggishly resumed, like an old record player grinding up after a black-out. His neck gave way, and his head seemed to float down like it was sinking through deep, dark waters, coming to rest between her breasts and he thought maybe he'd drown in the scent of her.

"Hey."

Karai gripped the knot of his mask roughly, and tilted his face up towards hers.

"Did you ask for permission?"

Leo shivered and goosebumps broke out over his arms at her words.

"No," he murmured, weakly.

"No, _what?_"

"No, Mistress," he mumbled in a barely audible whisper, the intense degradation and his desperate need mingling into a fever of adoration and burning shame, prickling hot across the back of his neck, tracing scalding fingers down his spine - a feeling as familiar as her touch, as longed-for, and every bit as illicit.

_Ohhh, he was in trouble._

"You stop when I _say_ you stop."

Immediately, obediently, he pressed forward, felt himself slide within her, and they groaned aloud in unison as he doggedly resumed his punishing rhythm. He sighed in delicious agony as she struck him across the face, the sharp sting mingling with all the other sensations in a confusing, overwhelming jumble, an intoxicating high coupling with a mangled ego, bloody and bruised; and through it all, the pervasive, searing lust - cruel in its urgency. It frightened him just how _bare_ she could flay him with only a few words: exposing the depth and desperation of his_ need,_ the folly of his pride, all his careful plans and pretty ideas about himself scattered like a house of cards. She saw clean through him - and she always had. It was the most humiliating and terrifying and intimate and _freeing _thing - not having to be the capital-L Leonardo that his family knew and expected from him.

It was the closest thing to peace he'd ever known - and the closest thing to love that she could give.

And if they ever knew -

Well. He'd rather die.

"Again," Leo whispered in a small, trembling voice - so unlike the one he was accustomed to using every day.

"Beg me."

Leo cringed, averted his eyes.

"_Please,__"_ he whispered.

Without a moment of hesitation, his head jerked as the slap came from the other side. He groaned out loud, his whole body alive and singing. He was still so sensitive, he was quickly being overwhelmed. He groaned, and picked up the pace.

"What do - we say?"

"Thank you."

"…and?"

"Thank you - _Mistress,__"_ Leo whispered hastily, heat blossoming over his neck and forehead to match the stinging handprints she had left on his face.

"Louder," Karai ordered, with a wicked grin, "You're - _hah_ \- you're so _pretty_ when you blush."

**Donatello - Age 8**

_Something is wrong. _

Donnie sat straight up in bed out of a dead sleep, in the inky blackness. He couldn't remember what had awoken him, but in the recesses of his sleep-heavy brain, something whispered insistently: _Get up. Something is wrong. _

He reached over to the bed post, retrieved his bandana, and tied it over his head, adjusting it so his eye holes were situated properly, and being careful not to make any noise, shimmied down the bed post of their bunk bed.

They had dragged them to the lair in pieces, but finally, they all had their own bed - even if they were still sharing a room. Even if he still had to listen to Mikey's snoring, at least he wasn't kicking him anymore.

Speaking of Mikey - he checked on him first. Yep, still snoring away, drooling on his comic book. He hadn't even taken his bandana off - again. Gently prizing the comic out from under Mikey's head before it was totally ruined, he slipped the bandana off as well, and placed them at the foot of Mike's bed, where a collection of half-empty candy wrappers, comic books, and action figures sprawled.

"Donnie?"

Don jumped at the sound of Leo's whisper, and turned around. He was leaning over the top bunk.

"Where y'goin'?" Leo yawned, sleepily.

"Bathroom," Donnie lied.

Leo nodded, and rolled over. After a moment, his breathing was peaceful once again. Raph was also snoring lightly, Spike resting on his plastron.

Hm. Everything seemed okay here.

_Something is wrong._

Donnie turned the knob carefully, so the latch wouldn't click and disturb his brothers further. He stepped out into the hallway, closed the door, and gradually released the knob again. The air was cooler out here than it was in their bedroom, and he shivered slightly in the dark.

A dull orange light flickered from the dojo.

Timidly, Donnie directed his feet towards the light - Splinter would be angry that he was up and out of bed this late…but…

_Something is wrong. _

He crept into the dojo as silently as he could. Splinter knelt in the middle of the floor, his back to the door. Maybe he was meditating? But that would be odd for several reasons - first of all, _sensei _usually meditated by the tree. And second of all, it was very late…very early, technically. Way too late-early for even _sensei _to be meditating…

Donnie glanced over to where the tree was growing underneath the sewer grate - it was getting really tall. "Just like you," _sensei_ had said, the other day. Soon its leaves would be brushing the ceiling.

Donnie looked back at where Splinter sat, and waited to be acknowledged. _Sensei _always knew where they were. It was impossible to sneak up on him. Except…he didn't seem to notice him this time. Maybe he was in a really deep trance?

Suddenly, _sensei_ lurched forward, and made a small gasping sound. Donnie's eyes widened. Was he hurt? Did he need help? He was about to step forward and ask, when he saw _sensei__'__s_ shoulders shaking, and heard a soft, wet, tell-tale sound.

He was crying.

Donnie felt rooted to the spot, like his heart was made of wood, like his feet were the actual roots of that tree, digging into the dojo floor.

He wanted to speak, but couldn't think of a thing to say. A strangled noise got lodged half-way out of his throat when he tried.

Splinter's head whipped around sharply, and he stared at Donnie over his shoulder, his eyes bright and wild.

From this vantage point, Donnie could now see a few objects in front of _sensei_. The framed photo from when he was human - Leo said that the lady in the picture and the baby were _sensei__'__s_ family from when he used to be human. There was also the flickering candle that gave the warm orange light to the room; a folded piece of paper that had Leonardo's name written on it in Japanese.

And a knife.

A short, _t__ant__ō_ blade, laid length-wise in his lap.

_Something is wrong. _

For a moment they stared at each other.

"Wh - " Splinter started, and then coughed wetly. Donnie turned his toes inward towards each other, digging them into the pile of the dojo rugs with a queasy, unsettled feeling in his stomach. He clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides.

"What are you doing out of bed, Donnie-bo?" he whispered, quietly.

He didn't have a good answer, so he didn't reply.

"Go back to bed," _sensei _ordered, dully.

Donnie didn't move. His gaze was fixed on the gleam of orange candlelight on the razor edge of the _t__ant__ō__._

"I told you to go back to bed!" _Sensei _scolded, his whisper suddenly fierce, "Do as you are _told, Donatello!__"_

"What are you doing?" Donnie whispered, nervously, "Is it…meditation?"

He took a few hesitant steps towards his father, and pointed at the note with Leonardo's name on it.

"Is that knife for Leo? Do we all get knives? Is it a special knife?"

"_Do as I say!__"_ Splinter hissed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He suddenly grabbed Donnie by the upper arm and shook him once, hard, "Why will you not - why do you - "

Donnie felt his eyes growing hot as well, though he had no idea why. He was scared. Really scared. His heart pounded like it was going to break through his plastron. His arm started to hurt where _sensei_ was gripping him.

"_Donnie-bo,__"_ Splinter choked, and just as fiercely, he dragged his son into his arms, the blade thunking dully from his lap to the dojo carpet, as he pulled him into a shell-cracking embrace.

Donnie wanted to hug his father back, but his arms were pinned in _sensei__'__s_ vice grip.

"Daddy," he whispered, tears he didn't really understand welling up and spilling over, "You're smushing me."

Immediately, Splinter's grip slackened. Donnie stood there, uncomfortably glancing from object to object, trying to deduce why this combination had somehow caused his father to act so frighteningly strange.

"I'm sorry, Donnie-bo," Splinter said, wiping the dark tear stains from his furry snout with one hand, and stroking Donnie's cheeks with the other, "I'm so, so sorry. What kind of father?…"

"I'm okay, Daddy," Donnie said, his stomach doing anxious flip-flops, "I'm alright - I was only a little smushed."

Splinter sniffed again, and gave his son a long, appraising look.

"You must call me _sensei_ when we are in the dojo, Donatello," he finally said, some of his composure back in his voice, "Now that your training has begun in earnest."

"_Hai, sensei,__"_ Donnie said, wiping his own eyes, still bewildered. He pointed to the note again.

"Is that for Leo? Do you want me to bring it to - "

"_No,__"_ Splinter said, suddenly, at normal volume. Donnie's eyes widened, and he glanced over his shoulder to where his brothers were still sleeping and back at his _sensei _with growing dread.

"No," he repeated, more softly, "In fact…"

He lifted the letter in his claws, and held it over the candle flame until it caught. He let it burn until it nearly reached his fingers, then dropped it. They watched as the flame burned out, leaving a scorch mark and a small pile of glowing ash on the carpet. Donnie's brow lifted in mute surprise. He wasn't allowed to burn _anything_…not even for an Important Experiment - not after what happened to the microwave.

He looked up at _sensei,_ who was watched the last of the ashes curl and die, with a haunted, vacant expression.

Donnie took him gently by the wrist, and started tugging on him.

"Leave me. I am alright, now. You can go back to bed, Donnie-bo."

Nope. Not alright.

He continued to tug, until, with a bone-weary sigh, Splinter picked up the candle, stood, and followed him.

Donnie tugged on Master Splinter's arm until they reached the kitchen, where he deposited him in a chair. Getting the step-stool out from under the sink, he hopped up and grabbed his favorite cup - the Harry Potter one, from the movie theater dumpster. Then he took out one of _sensei__'__s_ mugs, and setting them both on the table, retrieved the milk from the fridge. Carefully, he poured each of them a glass of milk, making sure _sensei__'__s_ was full almost to the brim. Being careful not to spill any, he slowly slid the mug over, and sat across from him at the table.

Splinter smiled a watery smile, and nodded, picking up the mug and taking a sip of milk.

"Very good. Thank you, Donnie-bo. Now close the refrigerator."

Donnie looked over in surprise.

"Oh…sorry," he whispered.

Capping the jug of milk, he put it back in the fridge and closed it quietly before resuming his post. He sipped his own milk from his Harry Potter cup, and watched _sensei _suspiciously, wondering what else he could say or do.

"It wasn't real," Donnie whispered experimentally, repeating the words that Splinter had used to soothe each of them over the years, like a magic charm, calming words to chase away the bad dreams.

"I did not have a nightmare, Donnie-bo," Splinter said, quietly, "I - "

He trailed off, and he seemed to look far, far past him, into a far away place Donnie couldn't see.

"Hm. Perhaps I did, after all," he said, in a haunted, hollow voice.

He sipped his milk.

"Is it because of that knife?" Donnie asked, quietly, "Or because of the picture?"

"It…was a bit of both," Splinter hedged, hesitantly, and Donnie recognized the mysterious tone _sensei_ adopted when he didn't really want to say. "This night…this night in particular is always…difficult for me."

"Tuesday?" Donnie asked, in total bewilderment.

Splinter looked at him in surprise, and huffed a soft laugh. Donnie grinned back, in cautious confusion - at least he was smiling again. Suddenly, though, Splinter's eyes welled up with tears once more, and setting his mug down with a dull clunk, he pulled Donnie back into his arms; this time, at least, he was careful not to smush him.

Still confused, but feeling slightly less afraid, Donnie cuddled into his father's embrace, pressing his face into the fur of his chest, and stayed there, breathing in his soothing, familiar scent.

When he awoke, it was morning, he was in bed alone, and the others had already gone to training.

It wasn't until years later that Donatello fully understood what he had seen that night.

He never told a soul.


	30. 030 Waiting

**2007 Verse.**

_Well, I came home_

_Like a stone_

_And I fell heavy into your arms_

_These days of dust_

_Which we've known_

_Will blow away with this new sun_

_But I'll kneel down,_

_Wait for now_

_And I'll kneel down,_

_Know my ground_

_And I will wait, I will wait for you_

_And I will wait, I will wait for you_

"_I Will Wait," Mumford and Sons_

**030\. Waiting**

Leo smiled warmly at the scene before him - Donnie and Mike passed out on the couch, clearly exhausted. For some reason, Michelangelo had a giant foam rubber turtle head on his belly. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know what that was all about.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

Home.

He detected the scent of incense, and the smell made his heart surge, the last gasp of homesickness more intense for being so close to resolution. Reaching out with his feelings, he knew _sensei_ was awake, knew he was aware of his return, and was waiting for him in the dojo.

Leo let the strap of his rucksack slide off his shoulder, and lowered it gently to the ground. Moving silently, he padded his way into the dojo and found his father waiting for him - a stick of incense burning, and a pot of tea gently steaming, two cups laid out before him.

Leo stepped forward, knelt, and bowed respectfully.

"Father," he said, "I've come home."

Sensei smiled and his eyes opened slowly, drank him in.

"My son," he said, his voice warm and rich with pride, "How I have waited for you."

From the hallway, Raphael's fingers curled, vice-like, around the shojo screen, one narrow, amber eye glinting in the candlelight as he peered into the dojo from the shadows.


	31. 031 No Way Out

031\. No Way Out

"Talk to me," Donnie said, with a gentle smile.

April busily wiped tears off her face.

"I don't know what to say."

"Anything," Donnie said, smiling up at her from the laptop, "I just like the sound of your voice."

April froze. She suddenly could think of nothing to say.

"Please?"

"I'm so sorry," she blurted, "I can't stand that this is happening. I don't want to say goodbye, but I don't know what else to do."

"Don't cry," Donnie said, warmly, "Please don't cry. It's going to be okay."

"But it _isn__'__t,__"_ April replied.

"The portal has to be closed," Donnie said, as though this were simple math, "And it can only be closed from this side. I'm the only one who knows how to do it. And once it's closed, it needs to be destroyed for good."

"There has to be - "

"There is no other way," Don said, patiently, "Please - talk to me about something else. Talk to me about school."

April snorted and wiped her face again.

"School is…school. Who _cares?__"_

"You should," Donnie chided, "You're a junior now. It's time to start thinking about colleges."

"I can't," April said, the words sticking painfully in her throat, "How can I even think about that, when you - when you're not going to be here to - "

"People die, April," Donnie said, calmly and resolutely, "They die all the time for no good reason. Cancer, car accidents, slip and fall in the shower…at least I'm dying for a really good reason. At least I get to choose. Not everybody gets a choice. So in a way, I'm kind of lucky. Right?"

April swallowed hard, the lump in her throat feeling even larger and more painful. She nodded, jerkily.

"April, you have to promise to keep living, okay?" he said, leaning into the camera urgently, "And you have to promise to take care of them. Especially Raph. Mikey is going to seem the worst, but he'll get over it the fastest. Leo will take longer, but Raph? He's not going to make it unless you help him."

"Don't!" April scolded, "I can't do this if you're - don't talk like it's already happened."

"He's going to blame himself. They all are. And I need you to help them through it. You have to promise, April."

"Fine, yes," April said, shaking her head fiercely, "I promise. I promise, Donnie, just - _please!__" _

Donnie sighed with relief, and smiled again. "How's your Dad doing?"

"Dad?" April blinked, surprised by the change of topic, "He…Better. Better every day. Thanks to you. He'd still be a bat if it weren't for you."

"Well," Don smirked, "He would never have been one if it wasn't for us, so let's just call that a draw."

April laughed wetly, and Donnie smiled.

"I love that sound," he said, "Tell me a secret. Something you've never told anyone before."

"Why?"

Donnie shrugged. "Who am I gonna tell?"

April touched her fingertips to his face on the laptop screen.

"I love you," she choked, tears streaming down her face, "I love you, Donnie. I have for a long time, now."

Donnie winced.

"Oh, April," he said, "That…that's really sweet. But you don't have to do that."

She wiped her eyes furiously.

"I _do,_ Donnie. I _swear _I do."

Donnie's eyes were welling up now and his smile sank into a scowl.

"Why would you _say_ that?" he demanded, "Why would you say that _now?__"_

"Because it's true," April sobbed, "Donnie, I love you, I -

"What's _wrong _with you? How can I…"

He raked his hands over his scalp, and turned away from the monitor for a second.

"Donnie?" April pleaded, her heart thudding when she couldn't see his face, _"__Donnie!__" _

"I'm here," he said, sounding defeated. When he turned back to the monitor, his lopsided smile was back in place.

"Sorry," he said, "I was being melodramatic."

April snorted.

"Well, I guess you're entitled."

"Yeah, I guess," Donnie chuffed, wryly.

Suddenly there was a loud boom, and April saw the back of his head again as he whipped around to look behind him.

"THE ONES WHO ARE KNOWN AS THE TURTLES WILL GRANT ACCESS TO KRAANG. THE ONES KNOWN AS THE TURTLES WILL NOT TOUCH THAT WHICH IS KNOWN AS THE PORTAL."

"DOES KRAANG TRULY BELIEVE THIS LINE OF INQUIRY WILL BE SUCCESSFUL?"

"SILENCE, KRAANG! THE ONES WHO ARE KNOWN AS THE TURTLES WILL OPEN THIS DOOR OR PERISH!"

"Ah, sewer apples," Donnie sighed, turning back to the monitor.

It was such a Donnie thing to say.

"Please,_ please _believe me!" April said, frantically stroking his cheek with her fingertips. All she could feel was glass. "You _have_ to believe me!"

Donnie's eyes welled, but he continued smiling stoically.

"I do. I believe you."

"Please don't leave me," April sobbed.

"I have to," he said, "I'm going to sign off, now."

"No," April said, "No, Donnie!"

The corner of his mouth tugged up sadly. She stared into his warm, reddish-brown eyes, over bright with tears, like she could somehow pull him through the monitor and safely into his arms if only she concentrated hard enough.

"I'm not afraid," he said, calmly, "Tell them I wasn't afraid."

There was another loud bang behind him. When he turned back to the screen, his face was set.

"_Donnie!"_

"I love you, too."

The screen went blank.

"Donnie? Donnie, _Donnie, Donnie NO!__" _

April shook the laptop in her hands, as if that would somehow reestablish the connection, as if that would somehow bring him back.

She stared at the black channel intently, waiting, waiting, hoping beyond hope…until suddenly, it turned to snow.

With a wail, she flung the laptop away, heard it crunch on the floor, and buried her face in her hands.

Soon they'd come walking through the turnstiles, bearing bad news, needing her help. Soon she'd have to make good on her promise.

But for now, she curled into a little ball and howled.


	32. 032 Fairy Tale

**Turtle Tots!**

**032\. Fairy Tale**

"Once upon a time, in Japan, there lived four brothers. Their father, the _s__h__ō__gun_, was not long for this world, and needed to decide who would gain control of the _bakufu_ when he was gone."

"What's _bakufu?__"_

"The shogunate," Donnie answered.

"What're shoga nuts?"

"Shh!" Leo scolded, "Listen!"

"In order to determine who would gain control of the _territory,_ Michelangelo - the _s__h__ō__gun_ declared a race. He declared that his children must climb to the top of the nearby mountain, retrieve a branch of the cherry blossoms that grew there, and return it to him. The first to complete the journey would be his successor."

"A race! I'm super fast! I bet I win!"

"Shhh! We're supposed to go to sleep!"

"Indeed, one of the sons was very fleet of foot. He immediately set off for the prize - however, his mind, like his feet, darted quickly from place to place. Soon, he was distracted from his task and spent the rest of the race carousing at the tea house. And thus, the first brother fell behind ."

"Ha ha! You lose."

"Shut up, Raphie!"

"Another brother, proud and ill-tempered, set off on the road to the mountain. Along the way, he kept harassing the peasantry: 'You there! And you! Out of my way! Your _s__h__ō__gun_approaches!' So irksome was his behavior, it got the attention of a band of thieves. 'Let us teach this one a lesson!' they agreed. Barring his path, they soon had him surrounded, and attacked. Infuriated, the second brother engaged them in an epic battle, which raged many hours - more than enough time for the other two brothers to pass him. And thus, the second brother lost the race."

"Aww, man!"

"Hah! So _there_, Raphie!"

"The last two brothers hurried forward together and reached the base of the mountain. When they arrived, however, they discovered a large rockslide barred their path. 'We will have to move the rocks,' said one brother. 'That will take forever!' replied the other, 'Let us rest for a moment and think of a solution.' 'You may do as you wish,' said the first, 'But I will set to work.'"

"So, one brother began moving the stones one at a time, while the other sat down to think. 'Perhaps we could tunnel under the stones,' he thought, 'or, we could navigate a different way up the mountain. Or, I could build a bridge over the stones.' The brother came up with many wonderful ideas, planned every minute detail, and weighed their benefits and drawbacks…but he could not choose between them all, and was paralyzed with indecision. And though it took many hours and much hard work, the first brother managed to clear a safe path through the rubble."

"Aww," Donnie muttered, "I wouldn't think about it _that_ long."

"Leo wins again," Raph groused, "Big surprise."

"As the first brother neared the summit of the mountain, however, he looked back over his shoulder. He saw his brother seated at the mountain, puzzling over the rockslide. Closer to the village, he heard the cries of his hotheaded brother and his foes as they battled. And further still, from the teahouse, he heard the sounds of laughter and music. He turned to look at the cherry blossoms, then back to his brothers, and he turned back."

"He did?"

"He did."

"But…why?"

"First, he showed his brother the safe path through the stones, and sent him up the mountain. Then, he intervened in the fight between his hotheaded brother and the thieves, and once the battle was won, sternly ordered him up the mountain. As he walked, he apologized to the villagers on his brother's behalf, and reminded them of his better qualities - such as his honesty, and loyalty - until their good opinion of the _s__h__ō__gun_ and his family was restored. Finally, he dragged the first brother from the teahouse, reminded him of his mission, and sent him on his way. Only once he was sure that _all_ of his brothers would complete the race, did he turn his own steps back to the mountain top."

"Each of his brothers passed him on their way back, holding their own cherry blossom branch, and each time, the fourth brother grew more and more despondent, knowing he had lost his chance to be the new _s__h__ō__gun_. Still, he wanted to complete the task his father had set for him. So he climbed to the top of the mountain, retrieved a cherry branch of his own, and with heavy heart and heavy feet, set off for home."

"As he drew near to the _k__y__ū__den_, however, he saw all three of his brothers kneeling outside the gates, holding their cherry branches, waiting for him. 'What are you doing?' he cried, 'Our father is inside waiting for you.'"

"'We have one question first,' they replied, 'Why did you stop to help us when you could have easily succeeded on your own?' The eldest replied, 'We are a family. If I succeeded on my own, it would not be success.'"

"Upon hearing this, the three brothers gave their branches to him, and willingly followed him into the house. And so it was, that even though the journey had taken him the longest - the fourth brother won the race. Together, he _and_ his brothers ruled the _bakufu_ for many years, in harmony and prosperity."

"The end!" Michelangelo pronounced, clapping his hands together, "Yaaaay!"

"Oh brother," Raph muttered, rolling his eyes.

Splinter smiled. His elder sons were almost too old for bedtime stories, and not shy about saying it. However, he also noticed Raph yawn contentedly and settle further down into the blankets. He stroked a paw over Raphael's smooth head gently, and his lips quirked with the ghost of a smile.

"G'nite, sensei," Leo yawned as well, scrubbing his eyes. Splinter gave Leo a pat on the head as well, and Leo grinned sleepily, already drifting off.

He gave Donnie a gentle caress on the cheek, and he nuzzled into the contact with a contented sigh, before rolling over and leaning up against Raph's shell. Raph grumbled and shifted position, but quickly settled again.

Finally Mikey reached up with both arms, and smiling, sensei leaned down to accept the embrace.

"Kiss my head!" Mikey demanded.

Splinter smiled and did so, pleased that at least one of his sons was still young enough to want a goodnight kiss.

"Hah," Mikey grinned, "I'm special."

"Shhh," Splinter admonished in a whisper, "Go to sleep, Michelangelo."

"Kay."

He cuddled up, grabbed Donnie's hand and popped his thumb into his mouth.

"Ew," Don grumbled, sleepily, "Suck on your own thumb, Mikey."

"Yerf iv bewwer."

"Senseiiiiii."

Splinter gently prized Donnie's hand away from Mikey's grip. Donnie rolled away from Mikey in annoyance, which caused Raph to grumble once again, but soon, they were both settled once more. Mikey, however, was now pouting at being deprived of his favorite thumb, but relaxed with a smile as Splinter tucked his teddy bear into his arms instead. Reaching, he clicked off the lamp, then stretched out onto the futon with a heavy sigh, and slung an arm over all four of his sons. They were getting so large now, his fingertips just barely brushed Leo's shell. If they kept growing at this rate, they'd soon outgrow this space. They'd need their own beds, their own rooms even, if possible. Tomorrow he'd have to start searching the adjacent tunnels and see if there were any likely places.

But he knew a part of him would miss these nights…comforted by the sound of their mingled breathing, knowing all of his sons were safely within reach, drifting to sleep under his loving guard. A time when all it took to reassure them was a pleasant story with a simple, happy ending…a story where good always triumphed, problems were always neatly solved, and families always stayed together.


	33. 033 Magic

**AU. Fluff to the MAX. You will probably get a cavity with this one. XD **

**033\. Magic**

_I resolve to call her up a thousand times a day_

_And ask her if she'll marry me in some old fashioned way_

_But my silent fears have gripped me_

_Long before I reach the phone_

_Long before my tongue has tripped me_

_Must I always be alone?_

_Every little thing she does is magic_

_Everything she do just turns me on_

_Even though my life before was tragic_

_Now I know my love for her goes on_

"_Every Little Thing She Does is Magic," Sting_

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmnt****TMNTtmntTMNTtmnt****T****MNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

"Well, this is romantic," April said, with a coy little smirk.

"Well," Donnie said, smiling nervously, "I, uh…it's a special night, and all."

"Aww," April said, taking her seat on a throw pillow, "Well, _every_ night we get to spend together is romantic."

Donnie squinted suspiciously.

"What?" April asked, innocently.

"You _knew,__"_ he said, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

"Knew what?" April replied, gazing up at him with wide, blue eyes.

"Yeah, I grew up with Mikey," Donnie said, grumpily flinging himself down onto his own cushion, "I know 'fake innocent' when I see it."

April and Donnie were seated on the throw pillows from the sofa in their apartment. Spread before them, on a picnic blanket, was a romantic rooftop picnic for two. He'd even put little tea-light candles in mason jars. April sighed. This was one of the nicest attempts yet.

"Did _he _tell you? Which one of them told?"

"Ugh!" April sighed, putting her face in her palm, "Donnie - this is beautiful, okay?! It's _perfect,_ I swear! So will you please just _ask_ me already?"

"No," Donnie said, stubbornly pouring the champagne into the flutes that stood waiting, "I will not _'__just ASK you already!__'_ It has to be perfect…a perfect - _magical_ night. And it has to be a _surprise.__" _

"Donnie," April sighed, prying a grape off the cheese board and idly popping it into her mouth, "First it was the carousel, then it was the beach at Coney Island, then it was the insanity where Raph flung me off a roof and you caught me - "

"In my defense, Mikey's idea," Don interrupted.

"I'm _wowed_ already," April said, exasperatedly holding her hands out, "I am floored. It's perfect, it's _magical,_ okay? Just - _enough!_ Just_ ask!__" _

"_NO!__"_ Donnie said, getting angrier, "I told you, everything has to be _just_ right!"

April folded her arms.

"You know what I think?"

"I have a feeling you're going to tell me, regardless," Donnie grumbled, rolling his eyes.

April arched an eyebrow incredulously. Oh, he was _asking _for it, now.

"I think you've got cold feet," she snapped, "There, I said it."

"_Pssh! _That's _ridiculous._"

"No! I think you've told yourself that everything has to be 'just so,' and that the planets need to align, and that it has to be exactly seventy-seven degrees Fahrenheit, and you can't step on any sidewalk cracks, so that you never actually need to work up the nerve to get down on one knee and _just - ASK ME!__"_

"Well, I guess you cracked the case, April!" Donnie huffed, folding his arms and turning away, "Thank goodness I've got you around telling me what to do and when to do it, otherwise, I'd never be able to think for myself again!"

April's jaw dropped. Donnie squirmed uncomfortably.

"I didn't really - "

"You know what?" April said, standing and throwing her cloth napkin down onto the picnic blanket, "On second thought? Don't."

She stormed off to the fire door that led down into their building. When she threw open the door, however…

She froze in her tracks. Christmas lights had been wrapped around the railing and were glowing softly in the stairwell. They hadn't been there when they'd walked up. She turned, and looked over her shoulder.

"Donnie? What - "

But he was gone. And so was the picnic. She blinked in surprise. She knew they were fast, but…where did it all go? And where did it all go so quickly, and so silently?

She turned around, and let out a little yelp, nearly jumping out of her skin, as Mikey stood before her at the first landing, hands behind his shell - wearing a tux.

"Mikey!" she said, putting a hand over her hammering heart, and laughing, "What on earth are you?…"

But she trailed off as Mikey put one finger over his lips. Drawing his other hand from behind his shell, he presented her with a bouquet of orange roses and held them out proudly. Beaming, April went down the stairs and took them from him.

"There's a card," Mikey said, shyly.

April took the "card" out - it was a piece of orange construction paper, folded in half…like something a kid might've made. But what else, from Mikey?

"Dear April," it read, in his sloppy print, "I grew up with three older brothers, but I never knew what having a sister was like until we met you. Will you please be my big sister forever?"

April felt tears start prickling at the corners of her eyes as she realized what was happening - realized that this was Donnie's plan all along. She grinned and shook her head - she got played. She got played like a violin. She looked up from the card and was about to answer, when she gasped again.

Mikey was kneeling in front of her on one knee.

"Well?" he asked, nervously.

April just grinned like an idiot in response and nodded, not even trusting her voice, and Mikey beamed back, hopped up, gripped her about the waist and swung her in a happy circle, before carefully depositing her back on her feet and giving her a big smooch on the cheek.

"Okay," he grinned, "Keep goin'!"

On wobbly legs, April kept following the Christmas lights down the steps until Raph came into view, holding a bouquet of red roses. April clapped a hand over her mouth at the sight of him - he looked miserable in his tux, yanking at his collar, until he suddenly realized she was there, and immediately straightened up, and coughed into his hand.

"So, uh," he started, then squinted, and looked away, "Wait, I was supposed to…ah, _damnit,_ hang on."

He fished around in his breast pocket and took out an index card. His lips moved slightly as he read it over. April giggled into her hand.

"Right," he said, and clearing his throat, stuffed the card back in his breast pocket, "I'm not always good with words," he recited, as though he had worked very hard to memorize this, "It's hard for me to talk about how I feel about stuff. Things! Things, not stuff… But getting to know you, over the years, has…made…' no, 'has _been_…' Um."

He made like he was going to reach for the index card, and then just sighed in exasperation.

"Look, you figured out what's goin' on here, yeah?"

April laughed, and nodded, wiping her eyes. Raph gave her a shy smirk in response, and held his arms out. She walked into them, and enjoyed the rare affection from Donnie's most withdrawn sibling, the cellophane from both bouquets crinkling loudly in the stairwell. Suddenly, he squeezed her tightly to his chest.

"I'm really glad," he murmured into her hair, "That it's gonna be, like - _official_, now."

April nodded into his shoulder, and sniffed. He chuckled.

"Oh right, wait, there was somethin'…"

He released her, stepped back, and took the white carnation boutonniere off his tux. He held it up, then pressed it into his hand, tucking it in carefully. Then, with a flourish, he whipped out a silk handkerchief, and handed it to April.

"Ta-daaaa," he said, rolling his eyes sheepishly.

April burst out laughing, and wiped her face with the proffered handkerchief.

"How long did he have you learning that?"

"Long enough," Raph grumbled, but he was smirking good-naturedly.

"I'm beginning to sense a theme, here," she grinned.

"Yeah, well," Raph smirked, "Go on, keep goin'. I gotta go…uh…well, just keep goin'."

Grinning like an idiot and shaking her head, April continued down the stairs, mopping her eyes. She turned to look over her shoulder about halfway down, but Raph was already gone.

When she reached the next landing, Leo was waiting for her, looking dapper in his own tux and smiling that gentle, calm smile of his, holding a bouquet of blue roses.

April beamed.

"I didn't think they could make blue roses," she said playfully, as she walked up to Leo, "Isn't that supposed to be impossible?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets," Leo smiled. He leaned in conspiratorially.

"There may or may not have been food coloring involved."

April laughed helplessly. Everything tonight had her completely off-balance. It seemed every thirty seconds she was either crying her eyes out or laughing her head off.

"So," he said, "I have another surprise for you."

"I thought you might," April grinned.

Smiling, Leo presented her with the bouquet and what appeared to be a bill, judging from the cellophane-windowed envelope.

"Um…it looks like…this month's student loan bill," April said, her voice quizzical, as she turned it over in her hands, "And it's…been opened already. Yay?"

"Well," Leo said, smiling, "It wouldn't be very magical unless there was a disappearing act."

April's eyes went round in mute shock, and Leo's smile just grew wider.

"Just read it."

April removed the paper from the already-torn envelope, and opened it, her eyes scanning to:

PREVIOUS BALANCE: $52,486.34

APRIL PAYMENT DUE: $365

APRIL PAYMENT RECEIVED: $52,486.34

CURRENT BALANCE: $0.00

April's jaw worked helplessly, and she felt her knees give way from beneath her. Instead of collapsing to the floor, however, she was startled as she landed on the plush footstool from their living room, which had miraculously appeared behind her.

"I…what did…how did…"

Leo held his hand out, and April took it, pulled weakly to her feet again. She took a step, and almost fell again, but Leo tucked her arm into his and guided her down the stairs.

"Everything will be explained," he said, smiling.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, he leaned over and gave April a kiss on the cheek.

"You're a very special person, April," he said, warmly, "I'm so proud that you're my family."

"I…Leo…how?…"

He smiled wider, his white teeth gleaming in the dim light from the Christmas lights.

"Keep going," he said, gesturing at the door. With a start, April realized they'd reached ground level. The door led out to the alley. He wasn't seriously going to propose in an alley, was he?

But when she opened the door, waiting for her, leaning on his motorcycle was -

"Casey!" April cried, hands flying to her mouth. Her eyes stung again with fresh tears.

Casey grinned back at her, shyly.

"Hey, Red."

"I…This…"

Casey just opened his arms, and April walked tearfully into yet another embrace.

"I'm happy for ya," Casey said gruffly, though she could hear the lump in his throat, "Honest."

"Casey - thank you," April said, leaning back to look into his eyes, her own spilling over, "This…it means so much to me that you - _thank you.__"_

Casey shrugged, shyly, "The best man won." He laughed suddenly. "Well, I guess…technically the Best Man didn't win."

"The Best - he already asked? He asked _you?__"_ April said, her heart surging with joy.

Casey just nodded, then laughed as he was crushed by another vice-like hug from April.

"Casey," she said, blinking away tears, "You know I always love you. Right?"

Casey smirked and ducked his head shyly.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered hoarsely, giving her a little squeeze, "Back atcha, Red."

He coughed, sniffed, and releasing her, slung a leg over the bike. Putting his own helmet on, he patted the back of the bike.

"Your chariot, milady."

"I don't have a - "

Startled, she caught the helmet that seemed to drop out of the sky in front of her and bobbled it in her hands for a moment. She stared at it for a moment, then laughed out loud.

"Very funny!" she called to the rooftops above. She thought she heard a faint snicker, but couldn't tell which brother it was.

She pulled the helmet on, climbed onto the bike, and wrapped her arms around Casey's waist, giving him a little extra squeeze as he throttled the bike and they took off into the night.

Their break-up had been ugly, and for the longest time - years, even - April wondered if things could ever be the same between them again. But time heals all wounds, and gradually, as it became apparent that her relationship with Donnie was here to stay, things began to normalize. But there was always that lingering doubt in her heart - and a layer of polite frost between him and Donnie. Knowing that was all behind them now…knowing that she had one of her best friends back for good, giving them his blessing…

April rested her chin on Casey's shoulder and felt her cheeks cooled by the tears that were whipped from her face by the passing air.

She was barely even paying attention to where they were going until the bike started to slow. It was a nice neighborhood - quiet, with trees, and nice rows of old brownstone buildings. But April didn't recognize it.

"Where are we?" she asked, shaking her hair, and handing Casey the helmet. He took it from her with one hand, and unclipped his own helmet with the other. Hanging them on the bike handlebars, he reached into his shirt, and pulled a key from a necklace around his neck. He pulled it over his head, and, shaking it from his long hair, handed it to her wordlessly.

She took it, and turned it over in her fingers.

"That one," Casey smiled, pointing at the nearest brownstone.

April looked over at the brownstone and then back at Casey, her brow furrowed in confusion, a million questions on her lips - but those lips would never ask, as Casey impulsively leaned in and gave them a quick peck.

"One for the road?" he grinned sheepishly, "For old time's sake?"

April scoffed, and shook her head, pushing him roughly on the shoulder as she dismounted. Casey snickered, softly.

"I'm pretty sure Donnie didn't ask you to do _that,__" _April scolded, arching an eyebrow. Casey just shrugged.

"I mighta improvised a little," he gave her a roguish, winning grin, "'Sides, it's my last chance, now that you're gonna be officially off the market an' all."

April rolled her eyes and shook her head with a helpless smirk. "See you around, Jones."

"Sooner than you think, Red." And with that enigmatic reply and a rev of the motorcycle's engine, Casey was off.

As soon as April turned, she let out a little squeak, and started to laugh. The door in question was now framed with the same Christmas lights, as well as the railings leading up to it, glowing softly. She climbed the steps, and put the key into the lock. She was about to turn it and walk in, when she froze in place, her eyes locked on the mailbox.

O'Neil.

It said _O__'__Neil._

Eyes round, fingers fumbling, she managed to turn the key the rest of the way, and tentatively poke her head into the foyer.

"Hello?" she ventured, nervously.

"Hello, sweetie."

"_DAD?!" _

There her father stood, and the sight of her father in a tuxedo caused her to erupt in fresh tears as she ran into his arms. It was a big, grand old living room, with a stair case leading up and curving out of sight. Her father stood in front of an old fireplace, empty now, with just a grate in front of it. The only light came from the ubiquitous Christmas lights, shining gently from the mantle and the banister of the staircase.

"Daddy, what is going _on?!__" _April sobbed, gobsmacked.

"Haven't you figured it out?" he teased.

"Well, I mean - I thought…but the student loans, and - how is…where?…whose?…"

"I am so, so proud of you, April," Kirby said, his voice trembling with emotion. He smoothed her hair and planted a kiss on it. Then, reaching into his pocket, he handed her a T-phone. Just as it hit her hand, it rang, and she saw Donnie's face on the caller ID.

Quick as a flash she accepted the call, and pressed it to her ear.

"Donnie?!" she cried.

"Hello, beautiful," his voice sounded in her ear, warm with love.

"Donnie," she said, wiping her eyes with her free hand, "What is going on? Where on Earth did you - what are you _doing?!__" _she cried.

"You were right, April," Donnie said in her ear, "I was dragging my feet…but it was never because of you…my cold feet were all about me. I just…still don't feel like I deserve you. I kept thinking of ways I wanted to ask you, but nothing ever seemed _special _enough for someone as special as you."

"But Donnie," April said, pushing her bangs back in disbelief, "The student loans, it's - this is too _much! _Where on Earth did you get the money to - "

"Do you like the house?" he asked, and she could picture his warm, gap-toothed grin as he spoke.

April looked around in shock.

"Yes?" she said, with a feeling somewhere between joy and dread, "It's…beautiful?"

"It's ours."

April simply froze.

"Hello?" Donnie said in her ear, sounding anxious, "April?"

"Donnie," April said, feeling a cold chill, "Where did you get the money?"

"From you," he said, and April detected a hint of his "I'm so clever" voice.

"Donatello," April said sternly, "I need a little more information, please."

He laughed, and the easy sound of it made April's heart ache.

"Remember my seventeenth birthday, you gave me that gift card for fifty dollars?"

"Y-Yes? I guess?"

"Well. I've always been pretty good with numbers. So I cashed it in, instead of spending it, and invested it in a five-year CD online. Then I took that, and bought a little stock. That did pretty well, so I bought a little more. I was always good with statistical probabilities."

"Donnie - "

"Then, I took some of the ideas that I'd been working on, and sent them over to the U.S. Patent office. I sold the stocks, used the fairly sizable dividends as startup capital, and - "

"Donnie," April interrupted, her head swimming, pulse thudding in her ears, "What…what are you telling me?"

"Well," Donnie said, "You've…have you heard of Doohickey?"

April's mouth flopped open like a landed fish.

"Doohickey?" she repeated weakly, "The _tech _company, Doohickey? _You__'__re _Doohickey?!"

"I know, it's a terrible - I mean, it's a _perfect _name," Donnie said in her ear, nervously, and she could just picture him looking over his shoulder for Mikey, "And technically, not anymore. I mean, I_ was, _I just, uh…Well, I just sold the company. And…we kind of…don't really need to worry about money anymore. Like…any of us. Like, not ever."

April shook her head in mute shock.

"April?"

"I'm here," she said, "Donnie…sweetheart…"

"Don't say anything yet," he said, anxiously, "Because I know what you're going to say. I know I can't _buy _your love, April. I know you better than that, and I would never - you're _priceless_ to me. I would never disrespect you by…I wouldn't…ugh, I'm screwing this up. If you don't like the place, we can always just rent it out, I mean - "

April took a deep, calming breath.

"Breathe, sweetie," she said, talking half to herself and half to Don, "Take a breath and…just talk to me. It's just me."

"God, see - you're so amazing," he sighed, "Being with me…_choosing _me…you have to give up so much, April. I just didn't want you to have to give anything up for me ever again. You deserve it _all, _April, everything the world has to give, and I can give you so little of it."

"Donnie, that's _ridiculous,__"_ April said, wiping tears away in frustration, "All I want is _you. _You are all I need. That's the whole point."

"I was hoping you might say that," Donnie said, his voice starting to tremble slightly, "April…there's something I really want to ask you."

April's eyes welled up for the hundredth time that night, and she made eye contact with her Dad, who was still beaming at her lovingly from his place by the mantle.

"But first," Donnie said, "I think…maybe you should slip into something more comfortable."

April frowned in confusion. "Wait, _what?!__"_

"I'll see you really soon, sweetheart."

"No, wait - Donnie? Donnie!"

The phone chirped to signal the end of the call. Kirby stepped forward, and reached for the phone. Wordlessly, April handed it to him, and he tucked it back into his pocket.

"Are you okay?" he asked, gently.

April shook her head in disbelief.

"I…I don't even know," she admitted, honestly, "It's so…_fast.__" _

She looked around at the beautiful space, the high, tin ceilings, the crown molding - it was old-fashioned, but it was gorgeous. She couldn't fathom how or when he had done all of this, and done it without her knowing.

"Well," Kirby smiled, "You didn't think it was 'all so fast' the other day."

April laughed. She had just been complaining to her father over lunch that Donnie was dragging his heels, and fretting whether he was _ever_ going to "bite the bullet" and propose. Her father must have been bursting to keep the secret.

She gave him a playful shove that turned into another hug.

"You all are a bunch of sneaky, lying…liars," she accused, playfully.

"Sounds like my kinda crowd," said a familiar voice from behind her.

April wheeled around in shock.

"_Karai?!"_

She looked back at her Dad, who just smiled.

"Here. I'll take those," he took the bouquets red, orange, and blue flowers from April, "And I'll let you girls do your thing."

With that, he stepped from the room, and closed the door gently behind him. April turned to face Karai with slight apprehension.

"'_Do our thing?__'"_ she quoted nervously. Karai smirked.

"Don't worry, I don't bite," she replied, "Well, not anymore. Well - not _much. Well -_ "

"Karai."

"Heh. Come on, then."

She turned on her heel and sashayed up the staircase. She was wearing long white gloves and a slinky black dress, bias-cut, which shimmered slightly as she moved. Like the boys, she had a white carnation, but hers was in her hair. She looked like a jazz singer from the nineteen-forties or something.

Bewildered, April followed her up the stairs. Karai stepped to the side as they reached the second floor, and -

Standing in the middle of the otherwise empty room was an old-fashioned mirrored vanity, with a hair brush, April's make-up box, and a plush chair waiting. And just to the right of this, waiting on a dress form, was a simple white dress, empire-waisted, covered with eyelet lace.

April covered her hand with her mouth, suddenly realizing what was going to happen tonight.

This wasn't just a proposal.

"You gonna pass out?" Karai said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"That…that's…"

"It was your mother's," Karai said, quietly, "Kirby told me." After a moment's pause, she added, "The veil was Shen's."

April pressed both her hands over her mouth and doubled over, now in a full-fledged ugly-cry.

"You _are _going to pass out, aren't you?" Karai said, accusingly.

April just shook her head, and tried to straighten up, tried to get her breathing under control. Karai just rolled her eyes and smirked.

"You're such a _girl. _Come on."

April laughed weakly and followed Karai over to the dress. Her fingers brushed the lace, and for a moment, she ached fiercely for her mother to be here. She looked up at Karai, whose amber eyes stared back into hers, and she could tell that she knew exactly what she was thinking. Of course it had to be Karai, here with her now. Who could understand better?

"So," Karai said, quietly, "I'm not really…a hugger."

"I am," April said, firmly.

She flung her arms around her, and pulled her close. Karai felt stiff in her embrace, at first, but soon relaxed, and even patted her on the back a couple of times.

"Thank you," April whispered, "Thank you for doing this."

"Hey," Karai said, "What else was I gonna do tonight? Sit through yet another Space Heroes marathon?"

April giggled. "You know, pretty soon, it'll be you and Leo's turn to - "

"_Hell _no," Karai interrupted, flatly, "I mean, good for you and all, but - this is about as close to a wedding dress as I get."

April smirked, and simply shrugged doubtfully in reply.

"Come on," Karai said, rolling her eyes, "Strip."

Karai helped her get dressed, and even brushed her hair out for her, her fingers nimbly braiding her red tresses and twisting it all into a bun.

"This is really happening," April said, staring at her reflection in the mirror in shock. Her heart skipped a beat and her neck heated with a sudden flush of nerves. She looked up slightly and made eye contact with Karai, whose reflection looked back at her coolly, amber eyes unblinking, a few bobby pins between her lips.

"I can have you out of here in thirty seconds," she said out of the corner of her mouth, deadly serious. "Just say the word."

April grinned. "Not on your life."

Karai smirked, and turned her attention back to her hair, putting the final two pins in. "Aaaaand…done. That ought to stay put."

She touched up her lipstick, but blotted most of it away, leaving a rosy stain behind…she realized that soon she and Donnie would be sharing their first kiss as husband and wife. The thought made her cheeks warm.

"Okay," Karai said, taking the veil off the top of the dress form, "Now it gets real."

She pinned it in place carefully, lowered it over her face, and April's breath caught in her throat.

"You look beautiful," Karai admitted, without sarcasm or guile. She put a hand on April's shoulder, and April covered it with hers, briefly.

"You ready?" she asked.

April's face split into a wide, helpless grin. _"__So_ ready."

Karai took her phone out of her purse, sent a quick text, and tucked it away again. Reaching her hand out, she helped April up off the chair, and started leading her away from the stairs.

"Wait," April said, pointing at the staircase, "Aren't we - "

She was interrupted by a soft ding, and one of the wall panels slid open to reveal her father, waiting there in his tux, holding a small bouquet of white carnations in one hand, and a large bouquet of purple roses in the other.

"Of course there's an elevator," April quipped. Karai snickered. "So where are we headed?"

"The roof, of course," Karai replied, taking her bouquet of carnations from Kirby and stepping into the elevator.

April followed, taking her bouquet of purple roses, mingled with iris, hydrangeas, and baby's breath. She sniffed them and sighed happily. Kirby put his hand lightly around her waist. It tugged on her veil slightly, but Karai had done an excellent job with the bobby pins, and everything stayed in place. They rode in silence as the soft dinging of the elevator marked their ascent.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart," Kirby murmured, softly.

"Thanks," Karai replied, immediately, "You're not so bad, yourself."

April giggled at the annoyed look on her father's face, and her laughter soothed it back into a bemused smile.

Finally, the elevators opened.

"Okay," Karai said, "Me first."

"Shh! Shh!" April overheard, "It's them! Mikey, start it!"

Karai stepped out of the elevator and began sauntering slowly forward to the sound of strings. As she left, April got her first look at the rooftop, and gasped.

It was a garden - a traditional, Japanese garden, complete with a small footbridge, which Karai was now traversing, and a koi pond. Japanese willows and weeping cherry trees in full bloom were wafting gently in the fragrant evening breeze. And there, flanked by Casey, his father, and his brothers, waiting for her -

April inhaled sharply as they made eye contact.

Oh, she wasn't going to make it. Not if he was gonna start.

She looked up, trying to stem the flow of tears, breathing carefully through her nose.

"Shall we?" her father asked, guiding her out of the elevator.

April began to walk by her father's side, making eye contact with Donnie again. He looked like he would burst from happiness. Leo leaned forward, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and whispered something which made both him and Casey smile and laugh a bit.

All the rest of the evening - everything that had happened up until now, even the beautiful surroundings she was slowly drifting through - they all faded away from April's thoughts. There was only him.

It seemed to take no time at all to float over to him. Her father lifted her veil, tucking it gently behind her, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He shook Donnie's hand, and Master Splinter's, and then took his place next to Donnie's brothers.

April was lost, staring into Donnie's eyes. She almost jumped when Master Splinter spoke her name.

"April," he said, in his deep rumble, "For many years, I thought I had lost my daughter forever. When you came into our lives - I felt as though life was once again giving me a second chance. The day I gave you your _tessen_, was, in my mind, the day you became my daughter. But I am so honored to be the one to _formally_ welcome you into our family tonight. And I am so grateful," he continued, looking lovingly at Karai, then at each of his sons in turn, "To see my entire family reunited again…whole, and safe, and happy. It is not only your union with Donatello that we are celebrating - you have made our family complete."

April looked over Donnie's shoulder at Leo, Casey, and her father, then turned to look back over her shoulder at Raph, Karai, and Mikey, who was already as much of a tearful mess as she and Donnie were. She giggled joyfully.

"Now. I believe my son has something he would like to ask you, April."

Splinter took a step back, and Donnie turned to face her, taking her hands in his, and he finally, finally, _finally - _dropped to one knee.

"April O'Neil," he said, "I love you. And I will always love you. I've waited far too long to do this, and I can't wait any more. Will you please make me the happiest man alive, and be my wife?"

"I will," April whispered, tears of joy running down her face. From behind her she heard Mikey blow his nose noisily, and then a stifled "ow" as, presumably, Raph elbowed him. She giggled. She heard the snap of a shutter and glanced up to find Leo was taking pictures.

"The rings, please?" Master Splinter asked.

Casey stepped forward, fished around his pocket, and took out two rings - a beautiful diamond solitaire for April, and a simple gold band for Donnie.

"Repeat after me," Splinter said, "'With this ring,'"

"With this ring," Donnie said, taking the smaller ring from Casey's palm and sliding it onto April's finger. She laughed through her tears as it slid perfectly into place.

"I thee wed."

"I thee wed."

April took the other ring, but froze momentarily when she looked at Donnie's fingers. He smiled, reached into his pocket, and took out a thin chain, which he offered to April. Again, he knelt down in front of her, and bowed his head slightly.

Catching on, April threaded the ring over the chain, and fastened the clasp behind his neck.

"With this ring," she said unprompted, gazing adoringly into Donnie's warm, reddish-brown eyes, "I thee wed."

He stood again, and put a hand over the ring. It nestled just under the rim of his plastron.

"Close to my heart," he said, smiling softly.

"Donatello Hamato," Splinter said, gravely, "April O'Neil - do you promise to love one another, always be true to one another, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Donnie said, still staring into her eyes dotingly.

"I do," April echoed, firmly.

"Then, by the power vested in me by…as I understand it - the _Internet,__"_ Splinter said, and Mikey snorted a little, "I pronounce you lawfully wed. Donatello? You may - "

But April had already tossed her bouquet behind her ("Oo! Me! Mememe!" Mikey cried) and flung her arms around Donnie, her lips pressed joyfully to his. The rooftop exploded into applause and cries of joy.

Finally, and too soon, Donnie drew gently away, his reddish brown eyes finding her adoringly.

"So did I do okay?" he murmured, gently.

April smiled, and caressed her husband's cheek.

"What took you so long?"

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmnt****TMNTtmntTMNTtmnt****T****MNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

**A/N: DIABEETUS. XD The new place has roaches, I needed something sappy. ****-_-; **


	34. 034 Do Not Disturb

**For SewerSurfin' who demanded "More Raphael." ;) Rated T**

**034 Do Not Disturb**

"Mikey! Get OUT!" Raph roared, literally kicking his younger brother out of his room.

"Ow!" Mikey said, stumbling into the hallway. Furiously, Raph slammed the door shut behind him.

"Leoooooooooo," he heard, through the door, "Raph kicked meeeeeeeee!"

Raphael scoffed and shook his head furiously. He took the nibbled pizza crust out of Spike's tank. Stomping back over to the door, he flung it open and hurled it at Mikey's head.

"He's not supposed to eat this stuff, Mikey!" he shouted, "You're gonna make him sick!"

"_We_ eat pizza!" Mikey retorted, "And it doesn't make _us_ sick!"

"Raph, don't kick Mikey," Leo called wearily from the living room, "Mikey - just stay out of his room. You know he doesn't want you in there."

Scowling, Raphael stomped back inside and slammed the door.

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt****TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

Raphael bit his lip as the hot water cascaded over his body. In his mind's eye, the girl from his motorcycle poster leaned over his bike, soapy sponge gliding over the chrome. She licked her lips tauntingly, and tossing the sponge aside, hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her denim cutoffs, slowly working them down over her hip bones…Raph groaned.

_Almost -_

The door shuddered on its hinges as Mikey's fist pounded it.

"Dude - come _on!__" _

Raphael snorted in annoyance, tried to tune him out, but the banging just resumed.

"Dude, I gotta _go!__" _

"So _hold it,_ what're you, _five?!__"_ Raph bellowed.

He shook his head, like he was chasing away a fly, and closed his eyes again.

Running her soapy hands over her body…leaning back against the motorcycle, fingers going to untie the knot in her bikini top -

_THUD! THUD! CRUNCH!_

"_MIKEY!" _

"_Gang way!"_

Raph heard the lid of the toilet smack against the tank and, almost immediately, the sound of urine hitting the water.

"Ah - _AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhh,__"_ Mikey groaned, _"__Phew! _That was a close one!"

Motorcycle girl wrinkled her nose in disgust, and faded from Raph's imagination.

"_GODDAMNIT_, Mikey!" Raph snarled, poking his head out from behind the shower curtain, "What is _WRONG_ with you?!"

"When you gotta go, you gotta go," Mikey drawled, his face serene with relief, still peeing.

"_WE LIVE IN A SEWER!__"_ Raph bellowed, "Couldn't you just go in a _tunnel_ or something?!"

"I dunno," Mike retorted, shaking off, "Couldn't you just spank it in your room like a _normal _person?"

"_UGH!__" _The rings of the shower curtain hissed on the rod as Raph snapped the curtain closed.

There was a flushing noise, and instantly, the water turned searing hot. Raph yelped and tried to leap out of the way, nearly slipping on the soapy tub, and greeting an early and embarrassing demise.

"DUDE, SORRY!" Mike said, instantly, "I FORGOT, I SWEAR, I DIDN'T - "

"I AM GOING TO_ MURDER _YOU, MICHELANGELO!"

"If you didn't hog the bathroom," Donnie's voice explained rationally, "You wouldn't have this problem."

"What the?! What is this, a _Town Hall Meeting?!__"_ Raph cried, incredulously, "Get_ OUT!__" _

"I have to fix the - "

"_OUT!" _

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt****TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

Raph sank into the sofa cushions, wiggling his butt until he was perfectly settled. He took a swig off his frosty bottle of root beer.

"Ahhhh," he sighed, slinging his arm over the back of the couch. With his left, he reached for the remote. Time for some -

"YOINK!"

"Mikey!" Raph scowled, "Give it!"

"No can do, Raphie-boy!" Mikey grinned, waggling the remote, "April is picking me up _War Is Awesome: 4_, and me and my online friends are gonna - "

"Yeah, well, you and your imaginary _'__online friends__'_ are gonna have to wait until after the match," Raph snapped, "Now gimme the remote!"

"You know, I could program the wrestling to record for you, Raph," Donnie offered helpfully, fiddling with a gadget at the kitchen table.

"Yeah! See?" Mikey said, with a grin.

"I don't _need_ you to program it, Donatello," Raph said evenly, through gritted teeth, "Because I was here _first, _and because - "

"Oh just let him play, Raph," Leo said, fishing around in the refrigerator, "April made a special trip, and how often does he get a new game?"

"Besides," Mikey goaded with a smug smirk, "Wrestling is _fake_ anyway!"

"It is not _fake,__"_ Raph snarled, getting up from the couch, "It's _scripted. _There's a _difference_. Now gimme the _REMOTE!__"_

He punctuated this by giving Mikey a stern _thwap! _to the back of the head, and catching the remote as it tumbled from his grip.

"Ow! Hey!"

Smirking, Raph settled back down on the couch and cued up the wrestling.

"You're so _mean _to me!" Mikey whined, and Raph rolled his eyes.

"No, really! Sometimes I just want to blue cow tomato sauce!"

Raph blinked, and looked at Mike askance. "Come again?"

"You dog collar _bus_ trumpet!"

Raph wanted to stay mad, but he couldn't help snorting a giggle of bemused disbelief.

"Well, that's creative," Leo mumbled, taking a seat at the kitchen table next to Don with his slice of pizza.

But the smirk slowly slid from Raph's face as he took in the growing expression of panic on Mikey's face.

"Helicopter," he said, his wide blue eyes going wide, frantically seeking Raphael's. "Helicopter. Raph, _Helicopter.__"_

"Mikey?" Donnie said, standing from the kitchen table slowly.

"_Helicopter!__"_ he repeated, _"__Helllllllli__…__cop__…__terrrrrr__…"_

He slurred the word as one side of his mouth sagged and refused to cooperate. To Raph's horror, a thin trickle of blood oozed from one of Mikey's nostrils. His knees gave out, and Raph sprang from his seat to catch him before he hit the floor.

"_DONNIE!__"_ he cried, "Something's - "

"Lab!" Donnie barked, scrambling to help, "Get him to the lab!"

"_Sensei!__"_ Leo hollered, knocking the kitchen chair over as he stood, _"__DAD!__"_

_**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**__**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**_

Raph sat on a kitchen chair, hands wringing each other, squeezed fiercely between his knees. He stared morosely at the ring on the table, left by Donnie's coffee mug.

April sat on his right, tiny fingers gripping his shoulder with all her strength, Mikey's game sitting on the table untouched in the plastic bag, unopened, forgotten.

Leo sat across from him with his arms folded, as still as a statue, staring fixedly at the floor.

Nobody spoke.

Finally, after eons, after light years, the door to the lab creaked open.

Master Splinter stepped out, his shoulders slumped, ears flattened back against his head. He looked up at Raph and Leo, and his eyes were rimmed with red.

Raph's heart stopped.

_**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**__**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**_

"It could have been anything," Donnie said, very softly, "Standing up too fast, falling off his skateboard, sparring during practice…it could have been congenital, or it might have been caused by a previous traumatic brain injury from one of our fights, and we just didn't…Raph, you couldn't possibly have - it wasn't your - "

He rolled over in bed, turning his shell to Donnie.

"Get out," he whispered.

Raph felt Donnie's hand land lightly on his shoulder, and he immediately smacked it away with all his strength.

After a moment, the bed creaked as Donnie stood. A moment later, he heard the door click shut quietly.

Raphael grimaced, and let the tears come.

_**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**__**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**_

Raph was dragged out of sleep by a quiet, firm knocking at his door.

"Raph," Casey's voice said, quietly, "It's time. You coming?"

Raph closed his eyes, curled up around the ache in his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around himself and huddling into a ball, like he was holding his guts in.

"You should," Casey's voice faltered, "You should come and…say goodbye."

His voice cracked slightly at the final word. Raphael couldn't speak if he wanted to. He just shook his head fiercely, grinding his tears into his pillow, letting wave after wave of grief crash over him. The silence stretched out for a few more minutes.

"Okay," Casey said, quietly, "It's okay. We…I'll come back later."

_**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**__**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**_

Raph hatefully, spitefully dragged himself out of bed.

_Stupid. Idiot. Asshole. _

He felt a bit of a head rush as he stood up. He hadn't eaten in a couple days, now.

"_It could have been anything…standing up too fast - "_

_Asshole. Moron. Bully. _

Blinking at the harsh light in the hallway, he turned his feet towards the bathroom.

He blinked as the toilet lid hit the tank -

"_Phew!" Mikey sighed, "That was a close one."_

He flushed.

"_DUDE, SORRY! I FORGOT, I SWEAR, I DIDN'T -" _

"_I AM GOING TO MURDER YOU, MICHELANGELO!" _

Raph grunted involuntarily, and winced, the muscles of his body tensing and locking in place.

_Murderer._

Finally he un-locked, and wearily turned his feet back to his room.

When he got to his door, however, Leo was waiting patiently in front of it, with his arms folded. For a second they just looked at each other.

"Move."

"No."

Raph's eyes narrowed.

"_Move.__"_

"No."

Raph's eyes wandered to his door…the stop sign, caution tape, and a yellow sign reading: "Keep Out!" Just underneath, in his spiky lettering, with permanent marker, he had written, "This Means _You_, Mikey!"

"_MOVE!__"_ Raph exploded, shoving Leo fiercely.

He hand his hand on the doorknob, but Leo grabbed him by the wrist, and twisted it behind his shell. Snarling, Raphael stomped on Leo's foot and broke out of the hold. Leo grunted in pain, and struck, but Raph was already blocking, and soon they were fighting hand-to-hand in the hallway.

"Just - go - _away!__"_ Raph snarled, ducking, and delivering a vicious cross.

"No."

"Knock it OFF!" Raph roared, taking another wild swing.

"NO!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE, MIKEY!" Raph bellowed.

He stopped in his tracks, eyes flying wide open as he realized what he'd said. He looked up frantically, made eye contact with Leo, who was looking at him with such sadness, that -

Raph's face crumpled, hot tears spilling over, and before he knew it, he was being crushed in Leo's arms.

"I killed him!" Raph howled.

"_No."_

"The last thing he ever said was that I was _mean_ to him. No," Raph corrected, bitterly, "The last thing he ever said was_ helicopter.__" _

He spat out the last word like he would choke on it. Leo's grip tightened.

"He loved you, Raph," Leo muttered, brokenly, "And he wouldn't let you do this to yourself."

Raph pulled away to wipe his snot and his tears away on his wrist wraps. Leo let him, but kept his hands on his shoulders, holding him in place like he was afraid he'd make a break for it. Raph looked up, and saw that Leo was looking over his shoulder. Turning, Raph saw Donnie and Master Splinter standing behind him.

"I tried to explain it, Raph," Donnie said, his voice trembling, "It wasn't your fault. You have to believe me, I wouldn't - I wouldn't lie about that. There was nothing you - "

Raph ignored him, and looked up into his father's eyes, shame twisting in his guts. There was no anger, no judgment there - which only made it burn worse.

"I'm sorry," Raph blurted, "I'm so, so, sorry, I - "

"My son," Splinter said, holding his arms open.

He stomped forward, flung himself forward into his father's arms, and howled into his furry chest.

_**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**__**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**_

Raph sat on the couch staring blankly at the screen in front of him. The noise and color was soothing. He could let himself drift, let it wash over him like a numbing stream of babble.

"So. Home shopping network, huh?"

Raph started, blinked, and looked over his shoulder at Leo, then back at the T.V.

"Is that what I'm watching?"

"In Spanish," Leo said.

"Huh." Look at that.

Leo sat next to him on the couch, holding a plastic bag.

"So, um. I thought. I dunno."

Raph looked down. He could see the box for _War is Awesome: 4_ through the thin plastic, along with the receipt.

Leo shrugged. "I mean - unless you're really into those…_zapatos.__"_

Raph looked at the leopard-print high heels being enthusiastically discussed in rapid Spanish.

He smirked at Leo.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

**A/N: AAAAAND I made myself cry for no reason. XD **


	35. 035 Multitasking

**A/N: PLEASE NOTE this drabble is rated M!**

**Let's have some fun! ;)****  
**

**035\. Multitasking**

"Donnie," Leo said, knocking lightly on the lab door as he pushed it open, "I just wanted to - "

"_NO._ I mean, '_Hi!__'" _

Leo stopped in his tracks with a dubious expression.

"Hi, Leo, I uh - what, uh, what, uh, what's up?"

Leo rolled his eyes. Donnie was so spacey when he was working. He was hunched all the way over his keyboard, not even looking his way anymore, his nose not two inches from the monitor, with the intense, slightly crazed expression he got when he was on to something big.

"Look, I know you've got a lot going on right now, and I hate to just dump this in your lap - "

"Aaahhh _yah,_ yah, I kinda do, so uh…how can I…how can I…_what?__"_

"The boiler's making that weird noise again," Leo said, "And you need to adjust the sensitivity on the smoke alarm. The incense keeps setting it off when I'm trying to meditate."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh. Boiler. Smoke arl-larms," Donnie slurred, staring intently at his monitor again, where a 3D model of a molecule rotated slowly. "Got it. Thanks, Leo."

Leo squinted, and eyed Donnie's clenched jaw, and hunched posture.

"What's with you? How much sleep did you get? That is, if you're even _getting _any."

"_What?__"_ Donnie asked, turning from his monitor, his eyes wide.

"_Sleep,_ Donatello," Leo said, sarcastically, "That thing _mortals _do?"

"Ah, right!" Don nodded with a forced smile, "Okay! Sounds good!"

Leo shook his head and scoffed in disbelief.

"You're _unbelievable!_ You haven't heard a single word I - "

"_GOD! Damn!" _

Leo's eyes widened in shock as Donnie pounded a fist on his desk, then quickly flattened his palm.

"_Damn,_ Leo, you - are _so_ right! That was just - _rude, _and I am SO sorry about that, but I am _really__…_close to a breakthrough here, can I - uh, get backtoyouonthe boilURRR - _HUR! AHEM!__"_

He coughed forcefully into his fist, and then thumped his chest a couple times.

Leo arched an eyebrow.

"Are you on drugs?" he asked, flatly.

"No?" Don asked, as if trying to remember.

"I hate when you take those stupid trucker pills instead of _sleeping._ You get all - twitchy."

"Yeah, I - _UGH,__" _he blurted, "I'm just so…_emBARassed_ about it? I mean you've…_warned _me about this a hundred _times_, and I just…_Mm!__"_

Don clenched his fist again and shook his head fiercely.

"Well, alright, I mean - don't beat yourself up," Leo muttered, feeling a little guilty for scolding him when he was asking for a favor. "Look, you're obviously stressed out, I'll come back later."

"_THANK YOU!_" Don blurted, "Leo, uh - thanks. Good - good talk."

Leo rolled his eyes and turned to leave.

"Oh, hey, Leo? Lock that, would you? I really need to…focus."

"Yeah, fine," Leo muttered, hitting the button on the doorknob, "Whatever."

"You're the best!" Don grinned, giving him a thumbs up.

Leo pulled the door shut behind him. For a moment he stood in the hallway and puffed his cheeks out, shaking his head.

"Weird," he whispered to himself.

He went off to the kitchen to see if there was any leftover pizza, or if Mikey had gotten to it already.

Donatello sagged bonelessly into his seat, his head lolling backwards over the back of his rolling desk chair.

"'_Don__'__t lock it,__'_ you said," Don mumbled sarcastically, "'_It__'__ll be fun__' _you said!"

April sheepishly climbed out from under Donnie's desk.

"Well, somebody enjoyed it," she smirked, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb.

Don growled and pulled her into his lap. April let out a happy squeak. With a push of his legs, Donnie rolled them both over to the lab table, and sweeping some scribbled notes aside, he set April down firmly on her rump.

"Oof! _Geez,_ Donnie!"

"We need to discuss your behavior, young lady."

"Oh, do we?" she replied fluttering her eyelashes teasingly.

"Mm-hm," Donnie smirked, running his hands up her legs, "_You,_ have been very _vexing_, Miss O'Neil." He started fumbling with the button on her shorts with thick, green fingers, pleased to see April grinning and biting her lower lip, "And it is time to return the favor."

"Mm, by all means," April grinned, _"__Vex_ away."

There was a cheerful "shave and a haircut" knock on the lab door.

"Oh, _COME ON!__" _

"Deeeeeeeeee?" Mikey asked, in a sing-song voice, "I was gonna make Chex Mix! D'you wanna - "

"FUCK _OFF!__"_ Donnie begged, half-involuntarily.

There was a brief pause from the other side of the door, and Don winced guiltily.

"Heeeeeeyyyyyy, April," Mikey called, sheepishly.

Donnie face-palmed.

"Hi, Mikey," April called, shaking her head with a broad, helpless grin.

"Sorryyyyyyyy…"

"It's okay, Mikey," April replied, stifling a giggle. Donnie was gently banging his forehead against the lab table between her legs.

"Soooo…do you guys still want Chex Mix or?…"

"MIKEY."

"Right, I'll just - Have fun! Have good sex!"

"_MIKEY!" _

"_OKAY_, sheesh!" They finally heard him walk away, muttering to himself.

Donnie made weary eye contact with April.

"Can you _divorce_ your siblings? Is that a thing?"

"_Tch!_ You don't mean that," April scolded, prodding him in the shoulder. Donnie just wrinkled his nose and gave a little sideways nod, like he might be considering it.

April grinned, shook her head, and started wriggling out of her shorts. "Hey. Let's focus on the task at hand, please."

"Well, if we could _get_ five minutes…"

"Five minutes?" April said, with an arched eyebrow.

"Well," Donnie smirked, turning a bit red, "Okay, bit more than _that_…"

She giggled again, as he tossed her clothing aside and draped her legs over his shoulders.

**A/N: Aaaaand cue Raph taking the "shortcut" from the garage. Hah! No. Even I'm not that cruel. Dat lab sees a lotta action in this fandom tho,**** I****'****M JUS****' ****SAYIN****' ****XD **


	36. 036 Horror

**036 Horror**

"Ungh," Don groaned piteously from April's couch.

"Do you feel like you need to throw up again?" April asked, sympathetically, replacing the rag on his forehead for a cool one. Casey surreptitiously took a few steps back. April gave him a glare but he just folded his arms and glared right back. He'd already lost one pair of shoes tonight. Fool me once, shame on you…

"No," Donnie panted feebly, "Just feel…awful. Sorry I…ruined your…whatever."

"It's fine," April insisted patiently, giving Casey a warning look, "We were just…studying. No big."

Donnie groaned again, rubbing his sore leg from the bite. April gently took his hand away, and put her wrist against it lightly. She winced. She could feel the heat even through the bandages.

"It's definitely infected. I wish I could give you more meds but it's not time yet…I'm going to get you some Gatorade, okay?"

Donnie didn't even reply, he just lay there miserably, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

April shook her head worriedly and left the room and Casey watched her go.

"Dude," he hissed, turning towards Donatello with his eyes narrowed, "If you're somehow faking this, I _swear._"

Again, Donnie didn't reply. He just lay unnaturally still.

"…dude? Uh…Dee?"

Casey stepped forward, his pulse quickening. He prodded Donnie in the shoulder.

"_Donatello!"_

"What?" April asked anxiously, stepping back into the room with a glass of lurid, flourescent sports drink, "What happened?"

"I think he passed out," Casey said, adrenaline jolting through his system.

"What?!"

Casey grabbed Donnie's shoulders and shook gently, while April set Don's glass down, hastened to the other side of the couch, by his head, and began patting his cheek.

"Donnie! _Donnie!__" _

"Come on, man! Rise n' Shine!"

Suddenly, Donnie's eyes snapped open, but instead of his usual warm, reddish brown, they were completely red - no pupil, no iris, just solid, angry, vivid red.

"Donnie?" April whispered in shock, stroking a hand over his forehead, still glistening with a film of sweat. To both of their disgust, April's hand came away sticky, long strings of…something connecting her hand to his forehead.

Faster than lightening, faster than Casey could even react, his enormous green hand closed around her wrist.

"_Ow!__"_ April cried, "Donnie!"

"_Hey!"_

Casey lunged towards him, but Donatello's palm connected fiercely with his chest, stealing the breath from his lungs and forcing him to stagger backwards, where he tumbled onto Kirby's coffee table, breaking it in half. He shook his head dazedly, and looked up where Donnie was now standing, his head at a strange angle, April struggling painfully to wrest her arm from his grip.

"Donatello isn't here right now," he said quietly.

Casey's eyes widened, his guts turning liquid. When he spoke, his voice had a strange double-quality…like he could hear Donnie's voice, but also something large and powerful that was speaking through him, like some kind of sick ventriloquist act. The sound of it made Casey's flesh crawl - it sounded like something greasy dripping down the back of your neck. He felt like he needed a shower just hearing it.

Donnie's familiar, gappy teeth gleamed in a cruel smile, and April screamed as he snapped her wrist casually, like a twig.

**A/N: Loosely based on Adventures in Turtle-Sitting from the 2k3 series…sort of a 2k12 "what if." **


	37. 037 Hero

**037\. Hero**

**This is a rough one. No judgment if you wanna skip :/ Takes place September 11th, 2002. **

Splinter sat on the sofa, the remote in one hand, the other pressed over his mouth in mute horror as the harsh blue light from the television set replayed images that were already seared into the minds of every New Yorker. He shook his head, slowly. He couldn't believe it had only been a year - it felt like yesterday.

He didn't understand the strange compulsion to keep watching. Part of him said this was a mistake, exploitive, somehow - that he should turn the television off, check on his boys and perhaps meditate, say a prayer for the lost. But another part of him felt that familiar siren song of tragedy that compels one to bear witness, to revisit…that strange, almost primal pull to tiptoe close to the grief, and then draw back again, dancing close to the fire and then away…almost as if to prove that you still can.

So much destruction and loss, from so much anger and hatred. He thought of the way his own young family had been torn apart by anger and hatred when he was still a young man, and his heart ached with sympathy for the thousands of families, now wracked by grief, who, just one short year later, were now beginning to realize that life was never going to go back to "normal"; at least not the normal that they knew. There was only an entirely different "normal," one that would have been unrecognizable to them just one year ago.

He cringed as the news showed clips from that day. Two office workers, seeming so small in the jolty amateur footage - just specks from that distance - took one another's hands, and with the smoke at their backs, stepped out into thin air. Splinter made a noise deep in his throat and squeezed his eyes shut.

_"'__T__ō__-san?__" _

Splinter wheeled around, startled to find Leo standing there, watching the television, his eyes round. He pointed at the screen, and Splinter turned, horrified, to find the image of a man seemingly frozen in space and time, tumbling downwards, head-first -

He scrambled frantically for the remote, fumbling with the buttons as the newscaster commentary relentlessly continued, until finally, mercifully, he pressed the right button and the television shut off. In the dark reflection, he could see Leo standing behind the sofa, his shoulders hunched, little green fingers twisting together uncertainly.

"What happened? Did that man fall?"

Splinter took a deep breath and tried to stave off the inevitable.

"What are you doing out of bed, my son? It is very late for a little turtle to be up. You have training and then school tomorrow."

Leo didn't answer. He was still looking at the television, now dark. He turned his wide, blue eyes to Splinter, and he winced, knowing the questions were coming, as they always did.

"Did the firemen catch him in a net?"

Splinter sighed heavily, and patted the sofa. Leo climbed over the back instead of walking around. Normally he would chide him for it, but Leo curled up on sensei's lap and leaned against his father's furry chest. As he sometimes did when he was seeking comfort, his little fingers gripped the fabric of sensei's kimono, and held the material to his face, nuzzling the smooth material absent-mindedly.

"He did fall. The building was on fire, and he had to jump." 

"Did he go to the hospital in a ambulance? Is he okay now?"

Splinter winced.

"No, my son. He passed away."

"What's that?"

"He…died."

"Oh."

There was a pause and again, Splinter braced himself.

"Just him though, right?" Leo asked, looking up into sensei's eyes, "He was the only one, right?"

For a moment, he was so, so very tempted to lie.

"No," he said, his heart breaking a little, "No, many people passed away that day, Leonardo."

"But why?" he asked sadly.

Splinter shook his head, looking off into space. _Why?_ It seemed so cruel and senseless. How on earth was he supposed to make sense of this to a five-year old, let alone a five year old who knew _nothing_ of the outside world?

"Was it bad guys?" Leo whispered, his voice sounding small and somewhat fearful.

"Yes," Splinter sighed, "It was…bad guys."

"But - why didn't the good guys save them?" Leo asked, urgently.

"They _did,__"_ Splinter said, stroking Leo's head, soothingly, _"__Many_ of them. Police, and fire-fighters. Rescue workers, and contractors, and - "

"And Spiderman?" Leo asked, perking up slightly, "Mikey says - "

"_No,__"_ Splinter said, firmly, "This was_ not_ like a comic book. _Wakarimasu ka?__"_

Leo nodded, his eyes huge. _"__Hai, sensei,__" _he whispered, guiltily.

Splinter sighed, his face and voice softening. "It is alright, Leonardo. It is…hard to understand. Even for grown-ups."

"So…the good guys came…and _then_ everyone was okay?" Leo asked, with dread.

Splinter hugged his little boy tighter, fighting back the stinging in his eyes, trying to keep his voice calm and neutral. His claws traced the patterns of Leo's scutes. He felt so small in his arms.

"No, not everybody. But they tried very, very hard. Some of them…passed away, also. But they were still able to save many people."

Leo said nothing in reply. Splinter sighed, knowing it was not the simple answer Leonardo wanted to hear. He leaned back, and lifted Leonardo's chin with a single claw.

"I am going to tell you something very important, Leonardo. You must always remember this: a hero is just a person. A person who wants to help. Even if it means giving _everything_ they have…even their life. That is what it means to be a hero. There can be no greater honor than service to others. The…'bad guys'…they caused much pain. They caused many people to suffer. But they are _few,_ and they are _weak. _Good people who want to help - we are _many. _And we are _strong__…_and like the ninja, we are?…"

"Patient," Leo finished, nodding dutifully.

Splinter nodded. "Good boy."

Leo looked up into his father's eyes with determination.

"I wanna help. So…I could be a hero, too, right? I'm a person, and I wanna help people!"

Splinter's heart swelled with bittersweet pride, and he placed a kiss on Leonardo's head. "And some day, you will. I am sure of it. Now. Sleep, my son." 

**A/N: I've often wondered before…as native New Yorkers, and given the current timeline (that they're 15 in 2012) the boys were alive when this happened, though they were young. And certainly Splinter was affected by it. I often wonder to what degree this influenced his worldview, and consequently, theirs…And I apologize if this felt disrespectful to anyone. It was not at all intended to be. **


	38. 038 Annoyance

**038 Annoyance**

The captured Foot ninja blinked and groaned as he regained consciousness, trying to determine his surroundings. He was tied to a chair, a single light source above him the only illumination. Not good. He appeared to be underground - was this a basement or something? Ugh, why did it _reek? _

He tested the ropes - damn. The knots were expertly made. His wrists were tied together, each arm was tied to the chair, and his entire torso was tied around…even his ankles were tied. There was no way he could break out of this.

From the shadows, a menacing figure appeared. He could barely see his silhouette in the dim light, but he knew it was one of those turtle freaks, and his blood ran cold. He stepped forward, just to the edge of the pool of light, and he could just make out his freakish green feet and legs, the rest of him slowly fading into shadow and obscurity. Only his eyes gleamed white in the darkness. He folded his arms.

"You should know that I don't want to harm you," he said, coldly, "My _brother_, on the other hand…he's pretty excited about it."

There was a low, guttural growl from behind him, and the ninja nearly soiled himself where he sat, his stomach gurgling miserably. He could almost feel the creatures hot, fetid breath on his neck.

"I - I'll never talk," he stammered, trying to keep the stutter out of his speech, "You won't get anything from me."

"Goodie," purred a low, guttural voice. A turtle with darker green skin and a red bandana stepped around from behind him and crouched down. They were even more terrifying up close and in person. His lips curled into a nasty sneer. "I was hoping you'd say that."

He gave him a pat on his bruised cheek, and he winced against the pain, his chest beginning to heave with panicked breaths.

"When is the next shipment arriving?" the quiet one spoke again, his arms still folded, "Give us the place and the date and I promise to let you go."

"Don't tell him," the red one hissed, lovingly fondling the sai in his belt, "Come on, please? I got big plans for you and that pretty face. You and I are gonna have some _fun.__"_

The ninja closed his eyes miserably, feeling burning tears spring there unbidden, and grateful that the screen of his mask would hide them. There was no escape. Well, at least he could die with some honor. He sneered, stuffing his terror down with a thin veneer of rage. He opened his eyes and snarled at his captor.

"_Kuso yar__ō__!__"_ he cursed, "I will tell you _nothing_, freaks! I would rather _die_ than betray the Foot Clan to _animals_ like you! You think this Good Cop, Bad Cop routine frightens me? Go ahead, do your worst. Long Live the _Foot Clan!__"_

He forced himself to stare into the green eyes of the hulking beast, until it turned and looked over its shoulder at the one lurking in the shadows. He nodded, slowly. The captured Foot ninja felt his heart racing and a cold sweat erupt all over his body.

But the red one just stood up and walked away.

"Big mistake," he muttered, opening the door and stepping out into a hallway.

"You're going to regret that decision," said the one in the shadows. As he stepped into the hallway he could see he wore a blue bandana.

"Okay," he said, quietly, "He's all yours."

In from the hallway bounded another turtle, lighter green, smattered with freckles, and wearing an orange bandana.

"HI! I'm Mikey! What's your name? NO WAIT - Lemme guess! Albert? Bob? Charlie? Douglas? Susan?"

"Ummm…I, uh?…"

"_Maya?! Really?"_

"No, uh…"

"_Noah?!_ Dude, you forgot your own _name?! DON__'__T PANIC. _It's gonna be okay. Cuz lucky for _you, _I'm SUPER good at namin' stuff! I'll just call you - Bug Eyes! Cuz that mask makes you look like you have Bug Eyes!"

He gasped suddenly and pointed a green finger at his face. "SHUT. UP. Shut _UP!__"  
_  
"I didn't -

"You could be my _SIDEKICK!_ _WAIT _\- Maggot Boy's my sidekick. Hmm…my nemesis, maybe? I mean, I sorta already got one, but…I could talk to Spackle Boxboy, he'd prolly be cool with it. He's an okay dude. Well, I mean, he _is_ a bad guy, but - hang on, lemme text him."

He whipped out his phone and started texting with his thumbs while he was talking.

"I don't know if you knew this, but…I'm actually a superhero known as - the Mighty TURFLYTLE! BUZZ BUZZ!"

He dramatically hit "send" and struck a heroic pose. By this point he was practically shouting.

"Ya heard of me? Buzz buzz?"

The captured ninja began eyeing the door with nervous longing.

The turtle thing's phone made a loud cat meow. He looked at it and laughed.

"Haha! Oh _man!_ He's all, 'Who is this?! How did you get this number?!' Pfft! _Classic!_ That is _classic_ Flappy Waxlips. Okaaay, let's take that mask off and see what we're - WOAH! Dude, forget _Bug Eyes_, I'm gonna call you _Prune Face!_ That eye is all purple and squishy like a prune. Does it hurt when I poke it? Yeah, that looks like it hurts. Ew, imagine if I _bit_ it?! Just like, '_GNARR, RARR pfllpflt, SKOOSH! Nooo, Aaah, my eye!_' Hahaha!_ Gross!_ HEY! Do you like_ pizza?_ Do you like PRUNES on your _pizza?_ I _LOVE_ pizza. I could eat almost ANY kind of pizza. Hawaiian pizza, deep dish pizza, thin crust pizza, New York style pizza, (can't forget THAT one!), I'll even eat frozen pizz - OH! That reminds me! You're gonna love this. This one time we were all out of pepperoni and all we had was bologna, so I thought I could just use that and then put a ton of pepper on top and turn it INTO pepperoni - cuz it's like, balogna, but _pepper._ Right?! Pepper - _ONI_. But it didn't work! Math is_ hard._"

The door creaked open, and the Foot Ninja felt a momentary surge of hope, but it was another turtle, this one wearing a purple mask. He carried a CD player, which he plugged into the wall, and promptly turned and left, his expression one of stony resolve.

"OH! Sweet! Thanks, Dee! Let's have some _tune-age!__"_

He bounded over, and the loudest, most ear-splitting J-pop he had ever heard was suddenly pounding through his tender skull.

"DUDE!" the orange mask turtle bellowed, "I LOVE THIS ONE! IT'S TOTALLY MY FAVE! WELL, ONE OF MY FAVES. I'D HAVE TO SAY AT LEAST LIKE, TOP THR - WELL, NOT TOP THREE, MAYBE - MAYBE TOP FIVE? THERE'S A DANCE, TOO, WATCH!"

Putting his hands up by his head like bunny ears he started squatting rapidly, flopping them back and forth, hollering along in some unrecognizable language.

"Come on, dude, EVERYBODY knows this one! _Nu __ä__r vi h__ä__r med__C__ARAMELLDANSEN!__"_

He bounded joyfully over and started shaking his rump vigorously in his direction.

"DANCE PARTYYYYYY! Unh - unh - work it out! Go Mikey! Go Mikey! Come on, you say it! GO MIKEY! GO MIKEY! DUDE, you're not SAYIN' it!"

Donnie stood in the hallway, pressing his fingertips together, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. They'd already been in there a while. He reached for the doorknob, but Raph grabbed his arm, and shook his head gravely. At long last, the door opened, and Mikey sauntered out, sighing contentedly.

"That - is a_ solid_ dude."

"Have fun with your new friend?" Leo asked, with a patient smile.

"Heck YEAH we did! I introduced him to all my toes, we burped the alphabet together, I gave him a make-over…I even told him my Top Ten List of Fictional Cats!" He leaned in, conspiratorially, "Spoiler art - Garfield _and _Nermal made the list."

He sighed happily.

"This is the best day ever. Oo! That reminds me! HEY!" he called, poking his head back into the room, "I'MA GO GET MY LAPTOP SO I CAN READ YOU MY FANFIC WE WERE TALKING ABOUT! DON'T GO ANYWHERE!"

He turned to beam at his brothers again. "It's a Crognard/Spooch slashfic set twenty years in the_ future_. I know it's not canon, but…I ship it."

He shrugged, and trotted happily down the tunnel towards the lair to retrieve his laptop.

"Now," Raph nodded gravely in Donnie's direction, "_Now_ we go in."

They filed into the room, Donnie hitting the "stop" button on the CD player, which was cycling through another hour-long block of Dance Dance Revolution music.

"_FRIDAY!__"_ the captured ninja sobbed, mascara running down his cheeks. His mask was discarded on the floor and his short black hair was in two tiny pigtails. Mike had even attempted to cover up his black eye with green, glittery eye shadow. "It's this Friday, down at the docks at midnight! I can give you the pier number! _I__'__ll draw you a map! JUST MAKE IT STOP TALKING!__" _

Leo, Raph, and Don made eye contact smugly, and gave each other congratulatory fist bumps.

"Good Cop, Bad Cop…"

"…_Annoying_ Cop."

"Cruel, but…effective."


	39. 039 I can't

**039\. I Can't ******

**This was actually originally intended to be the second half of #037 - Hero. I re-read it, though, and literally said to myself "I can't," and cut it from the drabble. Then I saw that was one of the challenges coming up was literally "I can't." And…Well. :( I did. Sorry.******

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt Many Years Later TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

Each time the searing hot rubble burned his claws it brought him straight back to that awful day in Japan, surrounded by the flaming ruins of his life, and the growing dread that nothing would ever be the same. Raphael worked fiercely at his side, Donatello and Michelangelo watching anxiously, unable to fit amongst the debris. Until - there! A knee pad! Or? No, elbow.

"He's here," Raph gritted through his teeth, and Splinter felt his other sons drawing closer, their anxiety pressing on his back like hot breath, overwhelming. He and Raphael doubled their efforts until they managed to clear Leo's head.

Splinter winced - he was bleeding from his nose and mouth. Raph kept working to free the rest of Leo's body, as Splinter crept carefully forward and wiped the dust and soot from his son's face.

"Leonardo. My son."

His eyelids fluttered, and then his face contorted with pain as he woke up.

"_Mrrmm._ Father?"

"_Hai, Leo-bo,__"_ he said, the childhood suffix slipping out automatically, "We are all here. You are safe now."

"_Sensei,__"_ Raph said, in a shaky voice. Splinter turned, and with horror, saw a small section of rebar jutting from Leo's broken plastron. He followed it along to its origin, realizing with sinking dread that it had gone clean through his side, and come out through his plastron.

"Is it bad?" Leo asked, weakly.

With one glance from Splinter, Raphael stepped back and allowed Donatello to kneel to make his assessment.

"We are not sure yet," Splinter lied placidly, "Donatello is examining you now. You must be - "

"Patient," Leo interrupted, and his wry smile turned into a cringe of pain. He seemed to choke for a moment, then turned his head and spat out some blood, taking a raggedy breath. Splinter looked frantically back at Donatello, his concern burning in his throat like thirst.

Donnie's eyes were already filled with tears when he looked up. He pressed his lips together and shook his head once, slightly. Splinter felt his heart drop to his stomach, his ears ringing slightly.

"The Kraang lab?" Leo asked, urgently.

"Destroyed," Raph replied firmly, "Completely gone."

"And," Leo paused to drag another wet, gurgling breath, "The…ho-ostages?"

"We got them all, Leo," Mikey said, "Me and Donnie. They're safe."

Leo smiled and relaxed his head back slightly. He licked his lips slowly and nodded a bit. "S'good."

Splinter gently smoothed the dust from his son's forehead with a withered claw.

"You have done _well_, Leonardo," he said "I am _very _proud of you."

"Jus'…try'n…help," he mumbled. The time between his words was getting longer and longer.

"What do I do?" Don whispered under his breath frantically, "What do I do? What do I do, I can't -"

He was cut off as Raph put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed firmly, his emerald eyes streaming. Mikey thunked down onto his kneepads, hugging himself fiercely, like he was trying to keep his body from falling apart.

"Sleep, now," Splinter soothed, stroking Leonardo's forehead as he used to do, long ago, "Sleep, my son."


	40. 040 Are you challenging me?

**Wow. 40% done with this challenge. Whaaaaat? o_0**

**Rated T for a little light cussin'. **

**040\. Are You Challenging Me? **

"Raphael," gritted the turtle in the blue bandana, his blue eyes narrowed to deadly slits, "You are…a butthead. You have lost the warrior way. Your farts are an assault on my honor. And you totally chew with your mouth open."

"RAAARGH!" roared the turtle in the red bandana, "PUNY LEO STUPID, RAPH SMASH!"

"Are you _challenging me?__"_ cried his opponent, his lips continuing to flap oddly after he finished speaking, "You are without honor, pig-dog! COME! WE FIGHT!"

They ran towards each other and began sissy-slapping each other, making little effeminate grunting noises.

"This is for all the times I told you to be _quiet _and then you were _not _quiet!"

"Oh yeah?! Well this for being a _nerd,_ Space_ Zero!__"_

"_Hothead!"_

"_Splinter Junior!" _

"I'm five minutes older than you, now _BOW TO YOUR SENSEI!__"_

"I AM FILLED WITH MURDEROUS RAGE! And other, more complicated feelings I have difficulty articulating, but _MOSTLY MURDEROUS RAGE!__" _

"_Great_, now you got _me_ all worked up. Now I have to go _meditate_ for four years!"

"You don't UNDERSTAND me! I'm DEEP! I take forty-five minute long showers and complain when the hot water runs out!"

"Wait - Raph! Behind you! It's a deadly coffee table!"

"What?! Not a deadly _coffee table?!__"_

"Yes! You almost stubbed your toe on it!"

"Stubbed my _toe?! _This is _ALL YOUR FAULT, LEO!__"_

"Don't worry, Raphael! I will now SACRIFICE MY LIFE to save you."

"LEO! NUUUUUU!"

"Nope! Too late now!"

"LEO, DOOOOOON'T!"

"I'm doin' it! I'm - no, you can't stop me!"

"LEO, WAAAAAAIT!"

"I REGRET NOTHIIIIIIING! _Bleh._ I'm dead."

"WHYYYYYYYY?! WHY, GAWWWD-DUH!?"

The red-banded turtle sank to his knees, flexing and shaking his fists at the ceiling.

"_DAMN_ YOU! DAMN you, Leo, you beautiful _BASTARD!__"_

"Hey, guess what? I'm NOT dead after all!"

"You're _ALIVE?!_ _Oni-samaaaa!__"_

"_Waphie-chaaan!"_

They fell into each others' arms, blubbering copiously.

"Let's promise to never fight again until tomorrow!"

"No, tomorrow's no good, I'm brooding all day tomorrow."

"Friday?"

"No, Friday is Leg Day."

April was holding her aching ribs, her laughter completely silent now for lack of air, and she was trying very hard not to pee on the guys' couch. Casey was laughing his head off on her other side, one hand gripping Raph's good shoulder helplessly while he and Leo scowled from their place on the couch, Leo with his foot in a cast, and Raph with his other arm in a sling.

"That's not how it _happened,__"_ Raph grumbled.

"And we sound nothing _like _that," Leo retorted, snippily.

Donnie and Mike sagged into each other's grip, laughing hysterically. They took a bow to April and Casey's thunderous applause, sliding their borrowed bandanas off their heads.

"Hey, dudes," said a deep voice from behind them. They turned in bewilderment. Splinter was standing there placidly with a lampshade on his head.

"Let us watch twelve hours of cartoons and perhaps, order a pizza with something disgusting on it! Booyakashaaaa!"

"Hey!" Mikey objected, but he was grinning, as Leo and Raph joined in the laughter.

"Oh yeah?" Casey grinned. Leaping to his feet, he narrowed his eyes, lowered his voice, and stroked an imaginary beard. "Up is down. Yes is no. Left is right. What is the sound of one butt crapping? Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?"

The boys veritably roared at this, and even _sensei_ chuckled, stroking his beard exactly as Casey had just done.

April sprang up from the couch, pretended to hock a loogie, and grabbed her crotch.

"Hey, Casey Jones doesn't DO homework! Casey Jones doesn't DO hygiene! Casey Jones doesn't DO pronouns! Let's crack some SKULLS, _GOONGALAAAAA!__"_

"Oh yeah?" Raph grinned. He batted his eyelashes and splayed his good hand over his plastron, "I'm April O'Neil! I wear the same shirt every day, and I've been a ninja for five whole _minutes!_ I'm almost a full-on kuno-_weech _you guys! Girl _power!__" _

"Hey!" Donnie scowled.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Casey said, laughing, "Wait, look, I'm Donnie! Science, science, blah, it's important to be accurate! I have a hopeless crush on April!"

The laughter took on a slightly nervous quality, Don rubbing his neck sheepishly. Raph tried subtly to elbow Casey, but his bad shoulder made it kind of difficult.

"I'm the smartest guy in the whole wide world, and I'm the only one who hasn't figured it out yet! _Herp derp!__"_ Casey laughed, but it died on his lips when he saw Raph's face.

"Wha? - oh come on, it was - we were doin' the…thing!"

"Figured what out?" Donnie asked, a laugh still lingering on his mouth.

April glared daggers at Casey, shook her head slowly, and closed her eyes. He looked back at her, opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again rapidly, looking stricken.

"Oh," Donnie said, his brow lifting, as he looked from one of them to the other, _"__Ohhhhhhh._ You, uh…you two."

"Donnie…" April started.

"No, that's - _great! _I mean…you're my best f - friend, so…I'm glad! Right?"

He almost said it like a question, his reddish brown eyes darting to Mikey, who nodded encouragingly.

"Yeah!" Don said, laughing lightly, "Yeah, that was - pssh. Good one, Case. Heh. Somebody else do one!"

They all looked at each other reluctantly.

"Oh, come on! Leo? No? Raph, do Mikey!"

"Hey, Dee," Mikey said, "Uh, I'm hungry. Could you make some popcorn?"

"You…want me to go make you popcorn?" Donnie asked, flatly.

"Yeah, yours always comes out…better," Mike said, grinning stiffly.

"Yeah," Don said, his face falling, "Yeah. I got a real way with a microwave."

Defeated, he slumped towards the kitchen.

"Real _subtle_."

Leo turned the television on and raised the volume so Don would have a little more privacy in the kitchen.

"What…is…_wrong_ with you?" Raph hissed, glaring at Casey.

He shook his head, his face buried in his hands. "I don't _know_, I - _damnit!_ April, babe, I am _so_ -

"'Look! I'm Casey,'" April whispered sarcastically, "'I'm an _asshole. _Herp, _derp._'"

She stood up and made for the kitchen.

"Hey, Don! Lemme help you with that."

"Well," Leo said, adjusting his foot painfully, "He knows, now."

"Guys," Casey said, miserably, "I just - I didn't - "

"Whatever," Raph sighed, "It's done."

Casey stared at the ground miserably, his shoulders slumping.

"Perhaps I shall remind you all that you have an early day of training tomorrow?" Splinter said, quietly.

"I think that's probably a good idea," Leo muttered.

"Alright, boys," Splinter said more loudly, his baritone voice sounding as calm and placid as if nothing at all had happened, "It is time to say good night to our guests. You have an early day of training tomorrow."

"Aww, really? Well. Okay," Mikey said, "G'nite guys."

"G'nite," Casey said, miserably, "April, I, uh - should we?…"

She turned from the kitchen where she was whispering rapidly to Donnie and gave him a death glare.

"_Donnie_ can walk me home," she said, coldly.

"Oh," Casey said, deflating, "Right. Cool."

"Actually, I can't," Donnie said, surprising them all, "Sorry, April. _Sensei__'__s_ right, it's an early day, and…you should let Casey walk with you."

April turned to him with wide, sad eyes. She reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, seemed to realize what she was about to do, and retracted it again, tucking it awkwardly behind her hair.

"G'nite," Donnie said, giving her a lopsided little smile.

He had his hands on the counter and was leaning back on them firmly, squeezing them under his shell.

Everyone watched the awkward tableau with bated breath. Donnie never missed an opportunity to hug April. Hello, Goodbye, How Are You, That Was a Funny Joke, Thanks For The Extra Dumpling, Happy Tuesday - every occasion was a good opportunity for a hug. Watching him deliberately avoid one was…surprisingly painful.

Scowling, April stepped forward determinedly, and gingerly put her arms around Donnie's neck. He didn't return the gesture, but he did lean his head into hers momentarily.

"I want you to text me," she said sternly, as she stepped back.

"Uh-huh," Donnie nodded, "Yep."

They all knew that was Donnie's "Yep" that really meant "Nope."

April nodded, her eyes welling up, and without saying goodnight to the rest of them, she walked straight past Casey and out of the turnstiles.

Casey looked up at them all, the picture of abject misery. Finally he met Donnie's eyes.

"Dee," he said, quietly, "Donnie, I - am…_so_ \- "

"You gonna let her walk alone?" he asked, coolly.

Casey nodded, sadly. "Right."

He gave Raph a little wave, who nodded in reply. He hopped the turnstile and trotted off to catch up with April.

Splinter took a deep breath, and let it out on a sigh, startling them all.

"I am canceling training tomorrow."

Brows raised all around the room. Granted, Raph and Leo were injured…but they could at least watch from the sidelines while Donnie and Mike trained, which was the usual injury lesson plan.

"I am ordering us a pizza," Splinter said, "And we are going to watch a movie."

"_Sensei,__"_ Donnie said, miserably, "I kind of just want to - "

"Which is why we are doing this instead," he said, firmly.

In the end, the pizza was hot, cheesy, and comforting, and they ended up watching a stupid action movie Mikey and Raph picked out.

Donnie's phone chirped a couple times, until finally, he put it on silent. A few minutes later, Mikey's phone chirped.

"She, uh…she got home okay," he reported, putting it back in his belt.

"Ah," Splinter said, "Good."

A few minutes later, Leo's phone chirped. With an annoyed grunt, he and Raph both silenced their cells as well.

The movie was almost over when the cheese phone began to ring.

Splinter sighed, and muttered something to himself in Japanese as he went to go answer it. Raph, who was closer, snickered under his breath.

"What?" Don asked, testily.

"Nothin', he just…said she's stubborn."

Don sighed, getting up from the floor.

"He has no idea."

"Donatello," Splinter said, reemerging, "D - ah."

Donatello had already reached the entrance to the dojo.

"Are you…asleep?" Splinter asked, kindly.

Donnie shook his head, and held out his hand.

Splinter placed the cheese phone in it, and gave him a loving pat on the head.

"Hey, April," Don said, dully, as he stepped into the dojo and slid the door shut behind him.

The credits were already rolling on the movie, and by unspoken agreement, they all started tidying up and turning everything off. Mikey laid down on the sofa, however, and pulled a blanket over himself.

"Dude," Raph hissed, "Come on. Give him some space."

But Mikey just shook his head, and positioned the throw pillows under his head so he could keep an eye on the dojo door.

Raph sighed, and rolled his eyes, pawing at his sling.

"I'm gonna _murder _Casey."

He helped Leo limp upstairs to bed, and Mikey snuggled down to wait. Splinter kissed his head as he passed by.

"Night, Dad."

"Mm."

Mikey didn't know how long it was when he was jolted from his nap by the sound of the dojo door sliding open again, but he was instantly awake.

"Dee?" he called, softly.

Donatello paused in surprise at the foot of the stairs.

"Hey. Why aren't you in bed?"

"I wanted to see if you were okay."

Donnie sighed, and rolled his eyes.

"I mean - I'm not gonna jump off a _bridge_. Sheesh. Everybody's being so…dramatic."

Mikey sat up and patted the sofa next to him. Donnie sighed, hopped over the back, and sat next to Mike, who promptly laid back down and put his head in Donnie's lap. Grabbing the remote, he turned on National Geographic without having to be asked, and set the remote down. For a while, they watched a nature documentary.

"I'd totally pick you," Mikey said, out of nowhere.

Donnie huffed wryly through his nose.

"I meant like…if I was April."

"Yeah, I get it," Don said, shaking his head.

"Just sayin'."

Don blinked a few times. He sniffed, and cleared his throat.

"Thanks."

"Mm-hm."

They went back to watching meerkats.

**A/N: I guess I was sort of indirectly influenced by a couple of TMNT comics on this one…"TMNT: Huh? They Saw It…? XD" by Loolaa on deviantart, and also "Okay-Raph-you-can-stop-pretending-to-be-me" on the asktmnt tumblr…and then, of course, there's the episode where they switch weapons and Mikey does his hilarious Leo impression :D But then I had to take a sharp left turn because ALL THE DRAMAAAA.**


	41. 041 Mirror

041\. Mirror

April giggled at the television, making the bowl of popcorn between them jostle.

"Pfft, I could tooootally do that!" Mikey bragged, pointing, "We used to do that for training!"

"Really?" April laughed, "Exactly that?!"

"Well, not exactly that," Mikey admitted, laughing as Groucho and Harpo bunny-hopped in unison across the screen.

"What're you guys watching?" Donnie asked, emerging from his lab.

"I was about to ask the same question," Leo smiled, walking from the dojo with Raph in his wake, "Sounds like fun."

"The Marx Brothers," April and Mikey said together.

"Come watch with us," April added, gesturing at the couches by them, "It's the mirror scene. Hang on, I'll rewind it."

They watched and laughed as Groucho and Harpo went through their routine, matching every gesture perfectly.

"They're pretty good!" Donnie smiled.

Mikey leapt to his feet.

"Come on, Donnie, do it with me! I wanna show April!"

"Here we go," Raph smirked, shaking his head.

"Oh, I dunno," Don said, turning slightly red and glancing at April.

"Pleeeeease?" April begged, sweetly clasping her hands together and fluttering her eyelashes.

Dirty pool, she knew, but Donnie's blush deepened, and shaking his head, he walked around the sofa to meet Mikey.

"SH-YES!" Mikey crowed, pumping his fist, "Who's leader?"

"You're not supposed to know who's leader," Leo admonished, his smile belying his scolding.

"We're just doing it to show her, don't get your tails in a knot," Mike chided, "Okay, you be leader, Donnie."

Mikey and Donnie faced each other, brought their hands together, and bowed slowly, keeping eye contact. April watched as they slowly moved through several kata…it looked kind of like Tai Chi, slowed down like this. True to his word, Mikey matched Donnie's gestures perfectly - even with their height difference, it was impressive to see how well synced they remained. Donnie's motions became gradually faster and faster, until they were moving almost at full speed, the series of postures and strikes in near perfect unison until -

"Oh, MAAAAN!" Mikey exploded, giggling furiously as he struck out to one side and Donnie struck out to the other.

The others laughed as well, and April clapped her hands together.

"Not bad," Leo offered, smiling.

"I don't think I've ever seen Mikey shut up for that long," Raph teased. Mikey stuck his tongue out in reply.

"Wow! That was really cool, guys! And you used to do this for training?"

"Of course," Don said, lapping up the praise, "It's really important to focus on your opponent and be able to predict their next move. The Mirror Game really helps with that."

"If you thought WE were good," Mikey said, pointing over April's head, "You shoulda seen THESE two."

April turned on the couch to see Leo and Raph glancing at each other nervously.

"Well, now I gotta," she teased, smiling

"Yeah, I don't think so. I got better things to do," Raph grumbled, and started walking towards the kitchen.

"If you don't think you can do it…" Leo said, his voice trailing off at the end.

Raph stopped in his tracks and glowered over his shoulder at Leo. Leo folded his arms and shrugged in challenge.

Raph's eyes went from Leo to his brothers, and then rested on April's. She tried to give him her best "winning" smile.

Without a word, he sighed heavily and stomped back towards the living room. Mikey and Donnie immediately jumped onto the couch on either side of April, for all the world like they were about to watch a movie.

Raph stomped in front of them, gave a sarcastic little curtsy, and then folded his arms.

"We doin' this, or what?"

Leo walked over, and immediately assumed the same belligerent posture, right down to the folded arms and grumpy jut of his jaw. Mikey squawked with laughter, and clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Real cute," Raph said, snidely. "Come on, then."

As one, they placed their hands together in the same position, and, holding eye contact, drew a deep breath through their noses. They bowed, as one, and slowly straightened up.

For a long time nothing happened. They just stared at each other intently. The room got really quiet - the dialogue of the movie running behind them that they'd been ignoring suddenly began to seem loud. Donnie surreptitiously muted it with the remote.

Slowly - as if in a dream - both Raph and Leo began to lift their arms at exactly the same time. Their feet glided back in perfect parallel motion as they sank into their first position. Drawing back, they slowly lifted their front leg, each foot leaving the ground at precisely the same time, hovering the exact same distance off the ground as they sank into crane position, their supporting legs as unwavering and solid as tree trunks, and always, their eyes locked together, slate blue and glittering emerald green. For a while, they held the posture, as still as marble statues. Until once again, at precisely the same moment, they began to move.

April watched, transfixed, realizing that at some point she had started holding her breath. It was…

It was perfect.

Not a motion was out of place. Not a beat was missed. Each gesture began and ended at precisely the same time - it was like a ballet. A slow-moving, graceful, underwater dance, fists and feet, arms and legs, gliding smoothly through the air in perfect unison. April tried many times to guess who was leading, but couldn't. Eventually she realized no one was leading - they were just…flowing.

She began to lose track of time, and get that strange sensation she got when she watched her Dad painting, or when she watched Donnie working on a machine. It was almost as if she had stepped out of time…like she was watching herself watching this moment.

The rhythm began to increase, and soon they were moving rapidly through their katas, leaping, striking, dancing apart and then closer again, every single motion in unity, and always, their eyes boring holes into one another with a laser-like focus. April's breath caught in her throat as they both executed a perfect flying kick, their toes missing each other's by an inch, and she gripped Donnie's arm next to her by reflex.

Their limbs began to blur, each gesture pouring into the next like water, faster and faster - a single drip becoming a flood, a raging torrent, until with a burst of energy, they both landed at precisely the same time, and thrusting their hands forward -

"HAH!"

The kiai burst from both of their throats at once, so that it was impossible to discern one voice from the other, and still, they held eye contact, panting heavily.

Their chests rose and fell in perfect unison.

Slowly, as if in a dream, they both straightened up, and again, bowed to one another in slow unison. April realized, with shock, that Raph's mask had darkened a bit under his eyes.

"Good."

April nearly jumped out of her skin and turned to see Master Splinter standing behind them, hands resting serenely on top of his cane.

"What did you learn?"

The spell broken, Leo and Raph resumed their normal stance, became themselves again.

"You need to keep your elbows in," Leo offered, quietly, looking at the floor. Raph nodded jerkily.

"Raphael?"

He brusquely rubbed his wrist across his nose, sniffed, and cleared his throat.

"Since you got hurt," he said, his voice quiet and gravelly, "You're favoring your right side too much."

Leo nodded, and gave a little bow, thanking him for the feedback.

"Mm," Splinter intoned, and like a spell was broken, Leo went back to the dojo, presumably to meditate, and Raph headed towards his room. April watched them go for a moment, and couldn't help but notice that without even trying, every step they took still fell in perfect sync.

"That…" she started, once they had left, "I didn't expect it to be so…was Raph…_crying?__"_

"I haven't seen them work in unison like that, since…"

Donnie trailed off, trying to recall, and failing.

"This kind of training can become very intense," Splinter said, quietly, "Especially when you attain the level that these two have."

Mikey squirmed in his seat and nodded at the television sulkily. "In the movie, it was _funny.__"_

Splinter's whiskers twitched with a slight smile.

"What do you see when you look in the mirror, April?"

"I…see myself, sensei."

"Mm," Splinter said, nodding. "Now imagine…a mirror that looks _back.__"_

April nodded thoughtfully as he headed for the kitchen, greeting Ice Cream Kitty as he extracted a cheese-sicle. She tried to imagine what it would be like, having someone see straight inside of you, to the point where they knew every move you were going to make before you made it.

"You wanna…watch the movie?" Mike asked, waggling the remote. He was clearly eager to break the mood and get back to fun.

"Yeah," April said, shaking her head, and taking a deep breath, "Let's."

When she turned the light out and climbed into bed that night, though, she lay there for a long time in the dark, staring up at the ceiling and remembering the graceful way Leo and Raph had moved, and the intensity crackling in the air between them.

And without even being able to articulate why, she felt the strangest sense of…loss.


	42. 042 Broken Pieces

**This one was a request from retro mania…the first fic request I've ever done! 80's toonverse. Rated K.****  
**

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**042\. Broken Pieces**

Mona had a list.

And thus far, it had been going great.

A full breakfast at her old favorite diner - pancakes, bacon, eggs, sausage, hash browns, all the fresh coffee she could guzzle, until she felt she would burst. She listened to the pleasant chatter around her, the clink of knives and forks on china, the drone of the TV, and listened with rapt attention while her waitress made small talk, and when she was done, she left a thirty percent tip.

Next, she took the subway to Time Square in the middle of the day, found herself a quiet spot to sit, and spent an hour just staring at everything around her - drinking in the sights, sounds, smells, the people bustling by, loud and cheerful, guys with boomboxes blasting on their shoulders, rich ladies with yappy dogs in purses, broke college kids wearing backpacks and ripped jeans, arguing animatedly about literature, or film, or pop stars. Punks and New Wavers passed by with multi-colored hair and piercings, while the guys on the corner drummed on an upended bucket and break-danced on a flattened refrigerator box, shilling for dollars from the tourists. It was crowded, noisy, dirty, smelly - the cars were honking, people were shouting - gritty, grimy chaos, with the ubiquitous pigeons periodically bursting into flight over it all.

_Heaven. _

She slowly strolled to Central Park, found a sunny patch, and stretched out in the grass. She reveled in the feeling of sunshine on her face, and watched as a family enjoyed a picnic nearby. A few kids were throwing a frisbee. Every once in a while, some joggers or some dog walkers would go by.

When she started to feel that she might be getting a little sunburn, she stood, and went on her way.

Once she reached the street, she hailed a cab.

"Where too, lady?" the guy asked, as she climbed in.

She felt her grin spread helplessly to her cheeks, so wide they ached, and her heart gave a little twist and a hop.

_Lady._

"Macy's!" she said, enthusiastically.

"Gonna do some shoppin', huh?" the guy said, starting the meter, and pulling into traffic.

"You know it," Mona beamed.

The guy chuckled, and they made pleasant small talk for a while about his wife and her shoe addiction, and how she argued back at him that he spent plenty of money on going to the Mets games, so why couldn't she have her simple pleasures, and he figured after forty years of marriage, he couldn't argue with that.

Mona drank in the simple, pleasant human contact like water, gulping it down like she had just crossed a vast desert. When they arrived, she paid him in cash and included another generous tip.

She spent the next several hours trying on clothes, chatting with the ladies around her about this dress, or that style. She wasn't really planning on buying anything - her resources were limited, after all. But it was the activity that counted: twirling in front of the mirror in the latest fashions, happily chatting with the sales woman and the other shoppers.

"You look just like Pretty Woman!" the middle-aged sales lady gushed, when she emerged from the dressing room wearing a red, polka-dotted dress. Mona giggled, and then checked the tag, wrestling momentarily with the price.

"Oh, go for it, honey," she prodded, "He'll never know what hit 'im."

Mona grinned. Why not? After all - how many other opportunities would she have?

"Do you have this two sizes larger?" she asked.

The sales lady frowned. "Well, yes, but - it fits you like a glove, dear. Why would you - "

"It's actually a gift," she lied swiftly, "For my sister. It's…it's actually her birthday today."

"Oh!" the sales lady smiled, "How sweet. Do you look much alike?"

"…No," Mona replied, staring at herself in the three-way mirror. Her smile fell a bit. She reached forward, her fingertips brushing the cool glass, tracing the face that stared back at her. When she didn't elaborate, the sales lady looked away awkwardly, and busied herself with re-hanging the clothing she had already tried on.

Once she had changed again and paid for the dress, it was off to the make-up counter, toting her new dress in a paper bag. A few hours of primping and enthusiastic flattery later, she was all dolled up.

"Gorgeous!" the sales woman declared, holding up the mirror for her, "Absolutely stunning! So, that'll be the Soothing Cleanser, the Tone-Correcting Powder Foundation, the Highlighter, Blush, Shimmer Shadow in Little Boy Blue, the Hydrating Lip Color in Coral, and the complimentary Brush Set?"

"Just the lipstick," Mona smiled, staring at her face in the mirror.

The sales woman's face slumped like runny egg.

Six dollars and thirty seven cents later, Mona took the escalator to another part of the store. Young families with fidgety, well-dressed children and squalling babies milled around, irritatedly fixing ties, wiping smudges off little faces, and smoothing their husbands' hair.

Mona walked up to the counter, and got the attention of the clerk.

"Mona Lisa," she smiled, "I have an appointment."

"Ah!" the harried man at the counter said, "Great. How many kids and how many adults?"

"No kids," Mona said, feeling a little pang of sadness.

"Ah! Just you and the sweetheart, then?"

"No," Mona grinned, thinking of how uncomfortable "the sweetheart" would be if he were standing here right now, "Just me."

"Ah! I gotcha, head shots! Are you a model? An actress?"

Mona laughed out loud, so loudly that the others began to look. She laughed until her ribs ached, but she just couldn't seem to stop herself. The clerk tittered along nervously.

"No, no," Mona said, wiping her streaming eyes, "No, I'm uh - I'm not a model. Or an actress, I just…"

A lump began to rise in her throat.

"I just wanted some nice photos," she said, quietly.

"Alrighty, then," the clerk glanced over where the photographer was trying heroically to get a screaming, miserable baby to stop crying long enough to get a decent picture. "It'll just be a few minutes."

The photos took a bit longer than she anticipated, but a few hours later, she was leaving the store with two four-by-sixes, a set of wallets, and one eight-by-ten in a plain silver frame. She blinked up at the sun and felt a twist in the pit of her stomach. The afternoon light was already slightly golden. How had it gone by so fast?

"Hot dogs!" the vendor on the corner called, "Hot dogs! Hot pretzels! Candied nuts!"

Mona smiled to herself, took out her wallet and counted carefully.

"I'll take one with everything," she said, walking up to him, "And a bag of almonds."

She'd blown her remaining cab fare on the dress, so she ate her hot dog as she walked to the subway station. She took the downtown six to the Village, and picked at her candied almonds while she walked.

Faster than she'd thought possible, she found herself standing in front of a quaint brownstone just outside Little Italy at sunset.

One last item left on the list.

She gulped, and with heavy feet, walked up the steps. She pressed the buzzer.

There was a long pause where she wasn't sure what to expect. Maybe they were out. She should have called first. If they weren't expecting anyone, they might not even answer the -

The door swung open and a middle aged woman with curly black hair, streaked with gray, and wearing a housecoat opened the door.

"Yes, how can I - _OH!__" _

She shrieked, and her hands flew up to her mouth. For a long moment she stood there in silence, her fingers trembling over her lips.

"Hi, Mom," Mona said, quietly.

For a long time the woman said nothing, and Mona felt her eyes fill up with tears, her face twisting.

"I - I wanted to - come sooner, but - I - "

"MY BABY!"

She flung her arms around her and squeezed the breath out of Mona, sobbing into her neck and pulling her inside.

"MY BABY, MY BABY," she kept screaming and sobbing. She didn't seem to be able to let go or say anything else. Mona squeezed her mother back, her own tears seeping from her eyes. Mona began to feel a telltale tingling in her fingers and toes and a throb of panic hit her.

"Mom," she said, "Is Dad home?"

"No, sweetheart," her mother said, releasing her and stroking her cheek, "But he'll be home in a little while. Oh, sweetheart, oh honey! Where have you been? Talking to you on the phone just isn't the same, and we didn't even know where you were and what kind of trouble you got into and when we heard about the ship going down, we just - "

"Mom," Mona interrupted, "I have something really important to tell you. Please, just - let me get through this."

Her mother nodded, wiping her hands nervously on her house coat.

"You can tell me anything, baby," she said, "It's all going to be okay now. You're home!"

Mona's gut twisted again with misery, the tingling in her fingers and toes growing in intensity, beginning to creep up to her wrists and ankles.

"This is for you," Mona said, reaching into the bag and handing her mother the framed photo.

"Oh, Mona," her mother said, beaming with pride, "I don't want you spending your money on presents. _Uch!_ Look at you. _Guarda, questa bella faccia._ Look at your pretty face. My little Mona Lisa smile. I missed that smile so much."

"Me too," Mona said, a lump rising in her throat. Tears began to seep from her eyes afresh. "Mom, I have to tell you something. I'm not…I'm not who you remember from…I'm different, now, and -

"Sweetie, _amore,_ I love you," her mother insisted, setting the photo down on the nearby end table and pulling her into her arms again, "Nothing you say could make me love you any less."

"I love you too, Momma," Mona said, the lump in her throat growing painful. The tingling had now started over her face.

"I don't have much time," she said, pulling away, "I have to tell you -

"You're not staying?" her mother asked, and the hurt and betrayal and sadness in her voice cut through Mona like a knife.

"I just had to tell you, Mom - that I'm okay," Mona said, fervently, "I'm happy, really…truly happy. And…I met a guy, and he - "

"You met a guy?!" her mother repeated, joyfully, "_'__I met a guy,__'_ she says! Is he a nice Italian boy? When do I get to meet him? What does he look like, what does he do, is he -

"Mom," Mona said, blinking away tears, "I need you to…I'm still _me,_ okay? I mean, not how you remember, but no matter what, I need you to know that underneath it all, I'm still - "

But her mother's face suddenly took on a pallor of fright.

"Mona," she said, slowly, "Mona, baby, you're turning green. Are you alright? Are you feeling sick?"

Mona held up her hands and looked at them - already her fingers had begun to fuse, the green webbing seeming to creep up between her green digits.

"What - what is this?" her mother stammered, taking a few steps backwards.

Mona grimaced, felt her tail brush her skirt as it re-grew. She held her hands up pleadingly.

"Mom - please, don't be afraid, it's - "

"What _are_ you?!" her mother cried, tears starting afresh, "What did you do with my Mona?!"

"Mom," Mona cried, wiping her tears away, and feeling that the skin under her fingertips was already scaly, "Mom, it's _me.__"_

Her mother shook her head rapidly, and her knees seemed to give way. She put her hand on the end table to steady herself, and the framed photo of Mona tumbled to the floor, the glass shattering into a million broken pieces, and Mona swore she could feel her heart shatter right along with it.

"Get out," her mother whispered.

"Mom -

"WHAT ARE YOU?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO AN OLD WOMAN? WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY MONA?! _WHERE IS SHE?!__" _she roared, tears streaming down her careworn face.

Mona hugged her arms to her chest, trying to squeeze her broken heart back together.

"This is why" she choked out, "This is why I could only talk to you on the phone. Mommy, I miss you, I - "

"_I__'__M CALLING THE POLICE,__"_ her mother cried desperately, tears sheeting down her face as she took an umbrella out of the stand and brandished it, taking another step backwards.

Mona looked at the ceiling, swallowing hard as she was racked with a fresh wave of tears.

"I'll go," she sobbed, quietly, "I'm sorry. I'll go."

She turned and put her hand on the doorknob, hesitated. She turned over her shoulder.

"Tell Daddy…Tell Daddy I love him."

"I'll…I'll call the…" her mother repeated, her eyes wild with fear and bright with tears. She looked down at the photo of Mona on the floor, covered with broken glass, and with a wail of despair, she sagged to her knees and picked it up with trembling fingers.

Mona closed her eyes, picked up her bag, stepped out of the house, and closed the door behind her.

Hastily scanning the street, she darted down the block, wiping her streaming eyes. A few shocked passers-by gaped at her in alarm, but she just kept running until she reached the alleyway. She ducked into it, and with a jump, grabbed onto the fire escape, pulling herself up the way her newfound family had taught her. She was focused on getting a foot up, when suddenly she felt a hand close around her wrist. She let out a little yelp and almost fell, before she looked up to see his familiar brown eyes, his mouth quirked with concern.

She let him pull her the rest of the way up. For a moment they just looked at each other, and then he opened his arms, and she crashed into them, sobbing onto his chest.

"Hey," he said, gently patting her hair, his familiar, reedy voice a soothing balm to her soul, "Hey, it's okay. Don't cry."

He might as well have told the sun not to set…might as well have told gravity to take the day off. But it was comforting to hear. Sniffing a few times, she wiped her face again and tried to make herself presentable.

"Heh," he smiled, rubbing a thumb across her face, "What're you doin' with all that junk on your face?"

Mona winced, realizing how ridiculous her green skin must look with all that flesh-toned make-up spackled onto it, smeared and tracked by her tears.

"You don' need all that stuff," he continued, blushing slightly, "Cute gal like you."

Mona giggled damply, and sniffed again. He always knew what to say.

"So, uh…I guess your big day didn't go so great after all," he said, sadly, "The retro-mutagen didn't last long enough?"

Mona sighed, and scanned the sky from West Side to East Side, as it slowly transitioned from orange to red to purple, and finally to blue…all the colors of her new family.

"No," she said, "It worked fine."

Raph watched her mutely as she remembered the little details of her day, and began to smile again.

"Actually?" she said, with a little smile, "It was pretty great."

"Yeah?" Raph asked, perking up a little bit, "Wanna tell me about it?"

"Yes," Mona said, her smile fading a bit, "But…not right now. Maybe later, okay?"

"Sure thing," Raph said, offering her his arm.

Her heart already feeling lighter, Mona accepted it, and he led her up the fire escape towards the roof.

"Hope you're hungry," he said, "'Cuz Michelangelo is makin' one heck of a pizza. All your favorites, plus a marshmallow, graham-cracker pizza for dessert. Oh, and April's picking up a cake, of course, for the birthday girl. We're just going to _ruin _that girlish figure! Heh! Oh, and then later, we - "

Mona let his voice wash pleasantly over her, soothing away her sadness.

"I got a present for you," she interrupted when they reached the roof, fishing around in the paper bag for one of her photos.

"Y'know, I don't know how you celebrate birthdays where you come from," Raph said, putting his hands on his hips sarcastically, "But it's usually traditional to _receive _presents on your birthday, not _give_ them."

"We don't exactly do anything traditional though, do we?" Mona said, teasingly. Raph's expression softened.

"I wanted you to spend it on _you,_" he said, tenderly.

"And I did," Mona smiled, "Mostly. Here you go."

Raph took the photo from her and regarded it in silence. Mona waited awkwardly.

Finally, when he didn't move or speak, she said, "I wanted you to have something so you could remember what I really - "

"You're beautiful," Raph said, quietly.

Mona blushed and looked down at her toes sadly, digging into the gravel of the rooftop. She was startled as his hand closed around her wrist, and she looked up into his eyes again.

"But I think you're even prettier just the way you are," he said, firmly.

Mona's eyes stung and she smiled as she threw her arms around his neck. She planted a squelchy kiss on his green cheek and he giggled dopily.

"So, uh," he said shyly stepping out of her embrace, "Should we get goin'?"

"Yeah," Mona smiled, suddenly looking forward to the evening's festivities, and the small but loving group of friends that was waiting to celebrate with her, "Yeah, let's."

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**retro mania requested 80****'****s verse Mona Lisa, where ****"****she drinks retro mutagen and becomes human again for a brief while until the effects wear off.****" ****I didn****'****t get to fit all the elements in that he requested, since it****'****s just drabble-length - but I hope you like it anyway, Brian! :) (And all my gentle readers.) **


	43. 043 Test

**With apologies to Firefly. ;)**

**043\. Test**

_"__MUAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!__" _

Baxter's laughter, enhanced and distorted by the microphone, echoed from the mouths of the mousers surrounding Donatello. He scowled at Baxter's holographic image, mocking him as he "paced" back and forth on the catwalk above, two large bundles draped with red fabric hanging from the ceiling on either side of him.

"You have before you a conundrum, Donatello," Baxter taunted, "But for all your genius, I wonder if you can figure a way out of - the Jaws! Of!"

"Doom?" Donatello asked, dryly, "The Jaws of Doom?"

"NO!" Baxter said, stomping his holographic foot ineffectively, "The Jaws of…_DESTINY!__" _

With a flourish, the reddish holographic image pressed a button, and the two large red curtains fluttered to the ground. To Donnie's left, hanging from the rafters, was April O'Neil, passed out with a strip of duct tape over her mouth. And to his right, all three of his brothers hung shell-to-shell, similarly bound and gagged. As soon as the light hit them, they began to struggle and call to him, their voices a muffled cacophony. The mousers surrounding him pressed closer, snapping their jaws menacingly, while the others scurried to form two groups, one underneath April and the other under his brothers, leaping up and snapping their jaws with angry shrieks, for all the world like a swarm of metallic piranha.

"MUAHAHAHAHAAAA! You understand now, don't you? Now we truly see your loyalties put to the test, my dear Donatello, for it is _you_ who will decide - "

"Her," he said flatly, pointing where April's unconscious figure dangled.

Baxter froze awkwardly, glancing from him to April back to the turtles and back to him again.

"I - what?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Donatello said, coldly, "You were going to ask me to choose, right?"

He pointed to her again, emphatically.

"Uh…well, then…prepare to uh…your fate will…"

He wrinkled his holographic nose.

"_Wow. _Really?That's _cold, _even for a reptile."

"Ask a silly question…" Donnie said, his hands tensing on his bō, "Get a silly answer."

"Well. I, uh. Ahem! _THEN PREPARE, TO - _Oh, heck with it! DIE, SCUM!"

Baxter hit the release button, and both April _and _his brothers plummeted towards the jaws of the mousers below.

Donnie darted forward, tucked and rolled, and arrived just in time to catch April's unconscious form. Slinging her over his shoulder, he kicked his bō back up into his hands, and batted the mousers away as he darted towards his brother's writhing forms, their screams muffled by duct tape. He grimaced - it looked like Leo and Raph had tried to break the fall, and were both the most injured for it, Leo with what appeared to be a broken leg, and Raph with some mouser bites already oozing blood. Mikey began screaming against the duct tape, kicking away as many Mousers as he could.

Popping the blade from his bō, Donnie sliced the ropes that bound them together, and Mike immediately sprang to his feet and unleashed his "hot nunchuck fury," not even pausing to un-tape his mouth. Their arms newly freed, Leo and Raph peeled the tape off their mouths.

"What the _HECK, MAN?!__"_ Raph bellowed, punching a mouser off his leg, "You don't even _think about it?!__" _

"_Escape now, guilt later!__"_ Don yelled back, taking out another three mousers while they argued, "Did he spray you with the - "

"Yes," Leo grimaced, standing on one foot, "We need the antidote to - _ANH!__"_

Donnie winced as Leo tried, and failed, to put weight on his foot. Balancing on one leg, he unsheathed his katana and took out another couple of mousers.

"I need a three-legged race," Leo panted, taking out another one that got a bit too close.

"Little busy here," Raph grunted, dispatching another few mousers.

"I gotcha, bro!"

Donnie turned his shell to them, April over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He and Raphael fended off more mousers, circling around them while Michelangelo took off his and Leo's bandanas and used them to tie Leo's knee securely to his own, Leo holding his foot about six inches off the ground. Leo sheathed one katana, and wrapped an arm over Mike's shoulders.

"Okay, okay," Raph snarled, their maneuverability now severely hampered, "Let's _book _already."

With a savage yell he began leading the way towards the exit, leaving a little trail of blood spatter and broken mouser parts in his wake.

"I got Leo," Mikey said, "You're battin' clean up, D!"

Mikey and Leo limped-ran together, doing their best to deflect the bots with one arm each, and Donnie brought up the rear, taking out three and four mousers at a time with his bō, constantly checking to make sure that no mousers had snuck around to the side of his body where April hung limply over his shoulder.

"NO!" holographic Baxter howled, "NO, NO, _NO,_ they're supposed to be _DEAD,_ and you're supposed to be _MISERABLE!__" _

"Guess 'Destiny' had other ideas," Donnie grumbled, as they broke free of the pack of them and turned to bolt.

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmnt****TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

Donnie just manage to leap into the Shellraiser before Raph closed the door on him. Startled, he wondered briefly whether he was _trying_ to leave him behind.

No, of course not.

After all, he was still carrying April.

He gently lowered her to the floor of the converted subway car, trying to hold her steady as Leo put it in drive and peeled out. The sound of the mousers giving pursuit faded behind them.

"They're not going to give up," Leo said, gritting his teeth tersely against the pain in his leg as he drove with his good leg, "They're still tracking us, and eventually they'll find us."

"I've got some of the antidote spray stored here in the Shellraiser," Donnie said, wearily, "The tank is full, just get us to a highway and keep us steady until I can spray everyb - _oof!__"_

His head jerked suddenly as Raph's fist connected with his jaw.

"You _JERK!__"_ Raph bellowed, "We coulda _died! _You didn't even _hesitate?! _I oughtta - "

He cut himself off, shocked into silence by the look of cold fury that radiated from Donatello.

"Do you really think a scenario like this has _never_ crossed my mind, Raphael?!" Donnie asked, his voice cold and quiet.

"Oh, _WHAT_, like you had the _whoooole_ thing planned out?!" Raph snarked, folding his arms.

"Of _course_ I did," Donnie hissed.

"Yeah _right!__"_ Raph argued, "What, like, you just sit around thinking of creative ways we might get _killed,_ so you can -

"_YES!__"_ Donnie roared suddenly, "That's _EXACTLY_ what I do, Raphael! So that when we inevitably find ourselves in _MISERABLE_ situations like this, I don't need to waste any precious time _DECIDING WHAT TO DO!__"_

Ignoring the shocked, slightly disgusted look on Raphael's face, he turned towards April and finally removed the duct tape from her mouth, leaning down to check her breathing.

"Dude," Mikey said, quietly, "You really do that? That's…kind of messed up."

Once he had established that April was breathing normally, he sighed, sat back on his haunches and started counting on his fingers.

"One - you were conscious - April wasn't. Two - April has about a year and a half's experience as a _kunoichi._ Between the three of you? You have about _forty-fives years__' __worth_ of experience. If I can't trust you to take care of yourselves, we shouldn't be going on missions, _period. Three- __" _

"But - "

"_THREE,__"_ Donnie interrupted, "April does not. Have. A _SHELL!_ One of _us_ falling onto concrete from a height of twenty feet without breaking our fall has about a thirty percent chance of dying. _April, _on the other hand, has about a _seventy _percent chance, impacting at the same velocity."

"How did you _calculate_ this?" Leo asked incredulously, not turning his head from the road.

"_Four,__"_ Donatello continued undeterred, "What do you think is more probable, that I'd be successfully able to catch all three of you at _once?_ Or that the three of you would break my _neck_, and then _ALL _of us would be mouser chow?!"

"Huh," Mike muttered, his blue eyes widening, "I didn't - "

"FIVE," Donnie plowed on, "We are _supposed _to be protecting people! What if I chose you and she _died,_ hm? Would _any_ of you _ever_ forgive me? Would _sensei?__"_

They looked at each other sheepishly.

"How about Casey?" Don continued, undeterred, "No, I'm sure he'd be _fine_ with letting April fall to her _death._ Or, how about _Kirby?!__"_

"Alright, already," Raph grumbled, sitting back, "We get it, you - "

"And _LAST, _but certainly _NOT_ least," Donnie roared over him, his voice strangling as a lump rose painfully in his throat, _"__I AM IN LOVE WITH HER!__"_

His chest heaved, as the stress of what he had just been through finally caught up to him, the agony of being forced to choose finally settling in, now that they were all safe, and his eyes stung and watered against his will.

"And I know you all think that's _'__sadorable,__' _and _pathetic,__" _he spat, hating the way his stupid voice was cracking, "And it's just a big _JOKE_ to everybody, but it's _NOT A JOKE TO ME!__"_

He took a ragged breath, his hands shaking from rage or adrenaline or sadness or something, he didn't even know anymore.

"_I made the only choice that I could live with, and if you think it was easy, and if you think it it's NOT tearing me up inside, then YOU DON'T KNOW ME AT ALL!"_

"Donnie?…"

Donnie immediately cut off his tirade and crouched over April, petting her hair a bit and trying not to look too deranged.

"Hey," he said, his voice immediately quieting, as he brusquely wiped his face, "Hey, there she is. Heh. Welcome back."

"Everybody's…shouting," April squinted, her voice gravelly, "I think I…ohGOD - "

She rolled to her side and retched, spilling a little bile onto the Shellraiser floor.

"Ew," Mikey mumbled, involuntarily. Donnie calmly pushed her hair back out of her face and held it for her.

"That's okay," he said, trying to make his voice as gentle and as reassuring as possible, "It's normal. Looks like you've got a concussion, that was some bump on the head. No no, stay on your side there. You just hang tight, alright? You're safe, now. Raph, would you please hold her steady? I'm going to get the spray for everybody."

"Yeah," Raph muttered, looking cowed for once, "Yeah, I…yeah."

Donnie ignored him and began crawling towards the First Aid area where the spray was stored, periodically swaying and jostling as the Shellraiser bumped along the highway. He stopped as Mikey grabbed his arm.

"Dude - it's…" Mikey said, trying to smile faintly, "We're all okay now. You…you did good. You made the right -

"I _know,__" _Don said sullenly, jerking his arm away.

Mikey cringed, nodded apologetically, and looked away. Don winced - it didn't matter what Mikey said. It didn't matter if it was smart, it didn't even matter if it was right - he knew that in some way tonight, he had betrayed them, because as soon as he saw that they had April - it was also what he _wanted._ And that made him the lowest of the low, worse than a traitor.

And the fact that they understood, that they _agreed _that he had made the right decision, only made it worse.

Loathing himself, Donnie set about looking for the spray.


	44. 044 Heal

**Dez as a girl requested "Leo caring for his family." :) **

**A prequel/missing scene from my "Best Selves" universe. Leo and his brothers are in their mid-thirties. **

**044\. Heal**

Leo politely tapped his toe against the frame of the screen door, before using that same toe to slide it open, his hands full with the tray.

He froze for a moment as he took in sensei's prone, quiet form, half-sitting and half-lying on the adjustable bed, the oxygen tank hissing quietly. He was forced to sleep sitting halfway up, lest he literally drown on the fluid filling his lungs. To Leo's relief, he took a rattling breath, his whiskers twitched, and he slowly opened his eyes. He forced a calm smile onto his features.

"Ah," he rattled, quietly, "Leonardo."

Leo stepped up to the bed and turning slightly, sank onto the edge, twisting to place the tray in sensei's lap.

"How are you feeling?" Leo asked, pointlessly. Splinter's eyes were glassy, his nose appeared red and dry, and his fur was matted. He looked terrible. Leo noticed how the white in his muzzle had gradually expanded, gray hair creeping into the dark brown and black markings as well. It had happened so gradually that it seemed to sneak up on him and he only now just realized the extent of the change.

"I am alright for now," he lied, politely.

Leo nodded, squashing his anxiety deep, deep down, so he could deal with it never.

"Let's try some ramen," he said, not really making it a suggestion.

Splinter's face fell slightly, as if that was precisely what he'd been afraid of when Leo walked in. His appetite had been dwindling, especially since this latest illness, and Leo could sense him trying to think of a way he could object.

Before he could arrive on something, Leo took the spoon, filled it with broth and held it up with a firm, patient smile.

Defeated by fever and exhaustion, Splinter accepted the soup, and leaned back against the pillows again wearily.

"Here," Leo said, gently, "Let's just…"

He fumbled around for a moment until he found the controls, and lifted his father up another few inches, so he was sitting up straight. The adjustable bed had been a lucky find at the dump. They'd brought it home in pieces, and Don had worked his magic to get it in running order again. Splinter had been annoyed at first, grumbling that he preferred his old futon, but laying flat on the futon wasn't good for his breathing, and getting in and out of bed had grown difficult on his body, being that close to the floor. Being higher up also made it much easier for Donnie to check on him.

"There we go," Leo said, dropping the controls and reaching for the spoon again, "Now let's just - "

The bowl clattered on the wooden tray as Splinter was suddenly racked with heaving, wet coughs. Leo dropped the spoon and hastily lifted the tray before his jerking body could spill it. He hastily set it aside and began rubbing his father's arm uselessly, not knowing what else he could do to help.

Splinter coughed more, gave a garbled, wet, wheezing gasp, and then choked up a ball of phlegm, holding it awkwardly in his mouth. Leo hastily grabbed an empty cup next to Splinter's bed, and held it forward so he could spit.

Finally, Splinter managed to draw a ragged breath and sank back against the bed again.

The screen snapped open, and Donnie appeared, Raph and Mike skidding to a halt behind him.

"Everything okay in here?" Don asked evenly, knowing full well it wasn't.

"Bit of a cough, still," Leo said, also controlling his voice in front of Raph and Mike.

There was no hiding the truth from Don - having the most medical experience, he clearly knew how dangerous pneumonia was, especially for someone Splinter's age.

By unspoken agreement, however, they both were doing their best to keep the gravity of the situation from Raph and Mike…but seeing the anxiety in their faces now, it was obvious that plan had failed as well.

"We were just having some soup," Leo said, as if it was an activity they were sharing, "I think sitting up kind of…shifted things around."

Donnie stepped forward and took the cup from Leo's hand, and peered into it at Splinter's phlegm. Leo tried not to grimace in disgust, and marveled at the way Donnie always seemed to maintain his composure when the family was sick, or injured. Blood and gore, puke and puss, it never seemed to phase him.

Which made it even more concerning when his brow lifted and he made deliberate eye contact with Leo. He tilted the cup in his hand ever so slightly and Leo peered in, his stomach flip-flopping unpleasantly at the lines of shiny red blood oozing around the mucus.

"You should really try some more soup, sensei," Leo said, turning away and once again pushing down the anxiety he felt…none of that would help, now. "It's good for you. Here, have a bite with some egg."

Sensei made a low rumbling noise in his throat, but nodded slowly as Leo spoon-fed him some more soup.

Leo waited patiently until Raph and Mike decided there was nothing for them to do there and wandered back to whatever restless distraction they'd chosen.

Don, however, just stood there watching him eat, until finally sensei shook his head and turned away from the spoon.

"Okay," Leo said quietly, taking the tray and setting it aside to clean up later, "That was pretty good. We'll have some more in a little while."

Don stepped forward, and checked Splinter's IV, then took hold of his wrist, staring up at the second-hand on the wall clock briefly while he counted. He pressed the back of his finger to the top of sensei's nose and frowned.

"Do you want your light off?" Leo asked, closing his hand over his father's.

"Mm." Sensei nodded slowly, his breathing raspy.

Leo lowered the bed about a foot, but Don made a soft noise of disapproval in his throat, so he raised him up again bit by bit, glancing over at Don until he nodded. Leo reached over, and turned the light off, the doorway to sensei's room now a warm yellow square against the dark. He stood, leaned over, and kissed his father on the head.

"Rest, _'__t__ō__san,__"_ he whispered.

Don turned and Leo followed him - they walked straight to the lab without comment, not pausing when Mike turned from his place at the stove and Raph looked over from the couch. Leo waited until Don closed the lab door quietly behind them before he buried his face in his hands and groaned.

"It's bad," he said flatly, a statement rather than a question.

"Yes," Don said, "Very bad. I think…Leo, I'm not sure how much more I can do. I've got him on IV fluids and antibiotics but he's just not responding. I've…started reading up on intercostal pleural drains. It's a minor surgery, but - "

"Surgery?" Leo echoed, lifting his head from his hands in shock.

"His lungs are full of fluid, Leo," Don said, "Inserting a chest tube may be the only way to help him recover. But it's very painful, and very risky. I could put it in too far, or not far enough, the site could get infected, his lung might even collapse…"

"Okay," Leo said, swallowing hard against the rising terror, "Okay, so - that's _clearly_ a last resort."

Don's face took on that sad, somewhat pitying look he sometimes got when they were being a bit slow. He put his hand gently on Leo's shoulder.

"I'm saying…I'm trying to tell you, I think we're _there_, Leo."

Leo looked up into Donnie's reddish brown eyes in alarm.

"The chest X-ray looks terrible" Don said, simply, "And if the antibiotics aren't working…I'm sorry, Leo. Maybe if I was a_ real _doctor, I'd know something else to try, but…"

Leo shook his head, and stepping forward, pulled Donnie into a firm, reassuring hug, slapping him on the shell a bit.

"We'd be lost without you, Don," he said, firmly.

He drew back and sighed.

"Let's give him one more day," he said, "If we don't see any improvement by tomorrow, then…we prep for surgery and hope for the best."

Don nodded miserably and gestured at the computer.

"I'm going to see if I can find some more thoracentesis videos."

Trying not to let horror overwhelm him at the thought that Don was learning to perform surgery on their father from YouTube, Leo nodded, and stepped out of the lab, closing the door quietly behind him.

"So," Raph said, sullenly from the sofa, "How was your little tea party?"

He raised his bottle of beer to his lips without waiting for a reply.

Leo inhaled through his nose and exhaled his annoyance. Raph was being Raph because he was scared.

They all were.

"Don was explaining…some of our options," Leo said, making a deliberate effort to keep his voice calm, aware that Mikey was carefully straining to hear every word from his place in the kitchen.

"Yeah? Like what?" Raph scowled, a hint of dread in his voice.

Leo hesitated.

"We're going to give the antibiotics another day to work," he hedged, "If he's not better by tomorrow, Don wants to try draining some of the fluid from his lungs."

He carefully avoided the word "surgery."

Raph's eyes widened slightly before he turned abruptly and went back to staring blankly through the television.

Leo stepped forward and put a hand on Raph's shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze as he passed by.

"He's gonna be okay, right?" Mike asked from the kitchen.

Leo smiled.

"Of course, Mikey," he lied, smoothly.

Raph suddenly stood up from the sofa, thunking his half-empty beer to join the empties on the coffee table and stalked off towards the garage.

"I _know_ you don't think you're _driving_ anywhere," Leo called after him, sternly.

"_Weights,__"_ Raph snarled, closing the garage door behind him.

Indeed, shortly after, he heard the muffled, telltale creak of Raph's weight bench as he sat on it.

Leo sighed, wandered over to the kitchen table and sat, resting his head in his hands again.

"Did sensei like the soup?" Mikey asked, his voice sounding tentative and younger than his years.

Leo forced a smile for the millionth time, and lifted his head.

"He said it was great," he lied again.

Looking pleased and relieved, Mikey turned back to the stove and resumed making dinner for the rest of them.

With Mikey's back turned, Leo let his mask fall away and stared vacantly at a knot of wood on the table.

"'Bout another half hour here," Mike said, covering the pot.

Leo nodded, standing.

"I'm gonna go check on him again."

"Man, this is some bug he's got, huh?" Mikey said. His eyes twitched from Leo, to the floor, and back again.

"Some bug," Leo agreed.

Mikey nodded, his face falling a bit, and turned to poke dinner with a spoon and stare at it some more. Leo sighed. He wanted to comfort him, but knew that doing so would only acknowledge how serious it was.

He turned his feet towards sensei's room and slipped inside. His father's breathing was noisy and labored, but it was constant. He reached down, and took an old, familiar book off the shelf, settling into sensei's armchair, making something of a bookrest with his leg across his knee. He clicked on the nearby lava lamp for some light, opened the book and cleared his throat gently.

"Let's see…where…ah. Botticelli."

He cleared his throat once more.

"'_In these works, the influence of Gothic realism is tempered by Botticelli's study of the antique,__'"_ Leo began to read, softly, _"'__But__, if the painterly means may be understood, the subjects themselves remain fascinating for their ambiguity. The complex meanings of these paintings continue to receive widespread scholarly attention, mainly focusing on the poetry and philosophy of humanists who__…__of the__…__humanists who__…'"_

He blinked, losing his place, and rubbed his eyes. Glancing up, he saw Splinter was sleeping, insensate to the world anyway.

Looking back down at the book, he flipped through the pages until he found the chapter on his namesake. Underneath the chapter heading "Leonardo DaVinci," his untidy childhood crayon scrawl copied the name "Leonardo" over and over, gradually growing in certainty by the bottom of the page. On some blank space to the right, in his father's steady, sure hand, he had written it in katakana, and again, his wobbly, infantile handwriting was underneath, repeating the name over and over in the Japanese characters, until he knew it by heart on his own. He traced his fingers over the crayon, feeling its wax against his fingertips, and felt his eyes start to burn.

He closed the book and set it aside, and repositioning himself on sensei's chair so his legs were folded, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes to meditate, focusing on his father, willing him to heal.


	45. 045 Frozen

**2k14 Verse. Rated T.**

**045\. Frozen**

Mike was on her like white on rice before she was even fully in the lair.

"Didja bring it?" he asked, his impossibly blue eyes round and shining with barely concealed delight, practically vibrating out of his shell.

Grinning, April reached into the messenger bag at her side, and proudly withdrew a DVD.

Raph groaned involuntarily from his place at the couch and shook his head, pushing his toothpick to the other side of his mouth in disdain.

"_YESSSSS!__" _Mikey crowed, scooping April up and spinning her in a circle in delight, "My girlfriend is the_ BEST!__" _

"She's not your girlfriend," Raph and Donnie chorused together wearily.

"_Yet,__"_ Mike said, putting her down, "Not my girlfriend - _yet.__"_

"You know this movie is for little girls, right?" Raph said, leveling Mike with a withering glare that could peel paint.

"Well you oughtta love it, then," Mike smirked, folding his arms and looking very proud of himself.

Raph balled up his fist and faked like he was going to jump up off the couch, and Mike let out a very unmanly yelp which he immediately covered with a cough, glancing nervously at April. Raph smirked in satisfaction, but then April giggled, and tossed her mane of reddish brown hair over her shoulder, and even though he knew it was pretty much impossible, Raph could have sworn he could smell her shampoo even from across the room and his tongue suddenly felt really big in his mouth and he sorta forgot where it normally went.

"Dude!" Mike hollered, bounding over to pester Don at his work station, "Frozen, Frozen, Frozen, Frozen, stop working, it's Frozen, stop working, stop working, la la la."

He began picking up random objects and putting them down again, occasionally turning them upside down, or switching them to another location, leaving Don to chuff in irritation and try to put them back in their rightful place.

"I'm Don, I do stuff, I put things on stuff for _science,_ blah, working, blah, it's _Frozen! _Come _ON!__" _

Don wearily held his hands up in annoyance as Mike kept poking and prodding and moving his stuff, making it clear that he was going to get nothing accomplished until he dropped everything and watched this movie. Admitting defeat, he slouched over to the couch, yawning.

Raph shook his head. He knew Don was lying about _not _pulling an all nighter. He was a terrible liar, and also, needed to start sleeping like a normal person. Well, like a normal…mutant turtle…person. Taking a break would be good for him.

"Leoooooooo," Mike called, "Do we have a fire extinguisherrrrrrrrrr?"

"_WHAT?!" _

"Raph lit the couch on fiiiii-yerrrrr," he sing-songed, in his "I'm tattling" voice.

Raph squeezed his eyes shut, and groaned a heavy sigh, shaking his head.

Leo came stumbling out of the dojo, blinked owlishly and bringing a waft of sandalwood incense with him, his meditation obviously rudely interrupted. Seeing nothing was on fire, he fixed Mikey with a baleful glare.

"It's yer own damn fault," Raph shrugged, "Easy mark."

"Since you're here anyway…" Mike said, gesturing to an empty chair like Vanna White.

"_Michelangelo,__"_ Leo said, working himself up into full lecture mode, his glower of outrage tempered with disbelief.

But April held up the DVD box and fixed Leo with a pleading little pout, and Mikey started making little puppy whimpering noises, and Leo started to blush and grin and finally shook his head in spite of himself and Raph wasn't sure why but it was really freaking annoying.

"You know this movie is for little _girls,_ right?" Raph repeated.

"We heard you the first time," Donnie groused, rolling his eyes, "Your fragile masculinity is intact."

"Whadju say ta me?" Raph growled.

"You mighty warrior, kill many mammoth," Don said, "We get it. Come on Leo, it's a new Disney movie. It'll be fun."

Finally, Leo gave in and assumed his spot, compromising by giving Mikey a thwack upside the head as he passed, and then pointing at him in an unspoken warning.

"_Owwwww!__"_ Mikey whined, even though it had pretty much been a love tap compared to Leo's true strength, "You see what I have to deal with, Angel-cakes?"

"Awww, poor baby," April smirked, cue-ing up the DVD.

"_POPCORN!__"_ Mikey suddenly yelled, his suffering immediately forgotten as he sprinted to the kitchen.

Raph had to admit - the movie was kinda better than he thought it would be. It started out okay - the music was sorta cool, at least.

"Duuuuude," Mikey breathed, in awestruck wonder, "That's _amaaaaazing! _I TOTALLY wanna build a snowman! Leo, gimme ice powers!"

"What?!" Leo said, bewildered, "What on _earth_ makes you think I can - "

"Shh!" Mikey said, putting his fingers to his lips, completely absorbed again.

Leo locked eyes with Raph in disbelief, but he just shook his head, just managing to contain a snort. Mikey gasped again as Anna and Elsa's parents drowned - but Raph saw that comin' a mile away - par for the course. The heroes were always orphans in these things. He had to admit that last bit of the song though…that was pretty damn sad.

Actually, the main girl, this Anna chick, was kinda cute, with her red hair and freckles, bein' all nerdy and clumsy and stuff. Kinda dopey - a bit like Mikey, to be honest - but still. Cute. A bunch of boring foofy romance stuff happened then, and whatever. But the real thing, for Raph, was Elsa. Every time she was on screen, he found himself paying just a bit more attention. Something about her, just…

He watched as everything inevitably went south, watched as she fled the village and started trudging up the snowy mountain, singing about how alone she felt - how isolated, how no one understood her, or her strange powers, how they feared and hated her for being different. She sang about how her feelings and her fears swirled around inside of her like a storm, making her push people away, even people she loved, like her sister. How even if she couldn't be accepted, she could at least be free - at least be herself. He was surprised to find his heart thumping a little faster as her magical and intricate ice palace rose up out of the ground. And finally, with a soaring of strings and a great crescendo, she whipped her hair around and -

"_YEEEEAAH!__"_ Mikey crowed, leaping off the couch and pumping his fists in the air.

"_HELL _yeah!" Leo echoed, to Raph's surprise, punching the air.

"_WOOOOOT!__"_ Donnie cried, both fists raised up over his head.

"_GET_ some!" Mikey whooped, pointing at the screen, _"__GET _some! You_ GO_ girl!" He and Leo shared a high three.

April was laughing and clapping as Elsa transformed her dress into some sparkly blue thing that was, frankly, sexy as hell, and Raph found himself grinning and nodding along.

"_HAH!_ See, even _Raphie_ likes it! Admit it, Raph, this movie _ROCKS!__" _

Raph just grinned wider, but he had to admit - Elsa kicked ass.

"_Aaah,_ look, he's _smiling!_ He totally likes it!"

Unabashedly engrossed by this point, they all leaned into the screen and watched the story unfold…cheering as Anna and Kristoff fended off wolves, laughing as Olaf sang all about the glories of summer…but even though he knew it was supposed to be funny, Raph felt a little twinge - all of them had dreamed, as little kids, what a bright, sunny, summer sky would look like - and wondered if they'd ever have the chance to see it.

And again, Raph found himself strangely engrossed as Elsa realized what she had done to Arendelle and began blaming herself, the storm of guilt and fear building once again - Anna just kept hounding at her, and Raph shook his head, gritting his jaw.

_Just leave her alone. Just give her a little space, is that really too much to ask? A little space to - _

And suddenly the toothpick fell from his mouth, and he heard Mikey gasp across the room as Elsa sent a blast of ice directly into Anna's heart.

And suddenly, Raph felt cold all over. Because he knew why this movie was getting to him. And he knew why Anna reminded him of Mikey.

And from the furtive, guilty glance he and Mikey shared before quickly looking back to the television screen, Mikey did, too.

How many times had they had that exact fight? Well, okay, minus the eternal winter, but - Raph would be brooding about something and just need some time to be alone…but Mikey didn't understand that. He'd just get right up in his face with his jokes and his questions and his "Hey! Hey, Raphie! Hey!_ Hey!__"_ until finally Raph snapped and said something he regretted, or just hauled off and punched him.

Raph shifted uncomfortably, watching with concern as Elsa pushed her sister away yet again…There was some action scene on a mountain and normally he'd find that more interesting, but all he could think about was the sad, sullen way that big snowy rage monster had said "Go away," and wondering, with a chill, when the last time was that he'd uttered those exact words to any of his siblings.

Fortunately, there was a kind of a lame song and dance number with trolls after that which kind of lightened the mood. But then Anna's health took a turn for the worse, and -

"Dude!" Mike said, "She better go kiss that prince guy fast!"

"I dunno," Don said, shaking his head, "It does seem like they're kind of setting her up with Kristoff. I just hope she lets Hans down easy. Poor guy. Love triangles are so _stressful.__" _

"She does have a habit of falling in love with people awfully fast," Leo tutted, disapprovingly.

"Hey!" Mike objected, "Shut up about my imaginary girlfriend! No offense, April."

"None…taken?" April replied with a bewildered smirk. She caught Raph's eye and shook her head in amused disbelief. Raph grinned back and felt his face heat up a bit. Mikey could be so _embarrassing!_

But then, the most shocking, cruelest cut of all -

"_WHAT?!__" _Raph roared, actually standing up, and to his surprise, the others all nearly jumped to their feet as well, leaning forward, fists balled up for action.

"No _WAY!__"_ Mike cried in dismay.

"Oh, he is a_ total _sociopath!" Don swore, shaking his head with bloody vengeance stamped on his features, _"__Textbook _narcissism."

"Well, _good,__"_ Mike swore, forcefully, "Reindeer Guy is _WAY _better anyway. She should totally get with Reindeer Guy."

"Kristoff," Donnie supplied.

"That's what I _said,__" _Mikey retorted, as if it was Don who wasn't paying attention, _"__Reindeer_ Guy."

"_Shhhh!__"_ Raph scolded, sitting on the edge of the couch again and leaning towards the screen, his fingers tented in front of his lips.

Of course, true love saved the day. But it wasn't the true love that Raph had been expecting, after all. Eventually, Anna indeed got with "Reindeer Guy," to a chorus of excited whoops and wolf-whistles. All was well in Arendelle, and the music swelled as Anna and Elsa ice-skated together and enjoyed their newfound closeness.

"_Awwwww!__"_ Mike sang, throwing his arms around Donnie, "I love you guyyyyyyys!"

"Get off," Don said, pushing him aside. But he was smiling, as he said it.

"Okay, I'm totally gonna go on record here," Mike said, holding his hands up in the air, "And say that I would totally step in front of a sword and turn into an ice turtle for you dudes."

"That was great, April!" Leo beamed, completely ignoring Mikey's noble, if somewhat hypothetical, sacrifice, "Thanks for bringing it!"

"I had a feeling you guys would like it!" April grinned.

"You are totally the best girlfriend ever, babe!" Mikey said, leaning over to crush her in a bear hug.

"She's not your girlfriend!" they all chorused wearily, as April giggled awkwardly.

"On that note," April said, extricating herself from Mikey's grip, "I should probably head home."

"Awwww, booooo," Mikey pouted.

"Some of us have work in the morning, Michelangelo," she scolded, playfully.

"And the rest of us have training, bright and early," Leo reminded them.

Raph scowled as Leo echoed April's chiding tone. He had a feeling Leo just wanted to look mature in front of her, and for some reason, that annoyed him more than usual.

"S'kinda late," Raph said, checking the clock on the combo VCR/DVD player under the television, "You okay gettin' home?"

"Um," she hesitated for the briefest of moments, "Yeah, I'm sure I'll be - "

"Nope," Raph said, standing.

"Raph's right," Leo said, standing also, "We'll keep you company."

"Hey!" Mike pouted, standing, "I can walk her home, not everybody has to - "

His protests were muffled as Donnie casually put his hand over his face and gently pushed him out of the way, giving April a sheepish smile.

"It's not far," he said, shyly, "It's the least we can do, after you were nice enough to bring the movie."

"Of course!" April smiled, waving him off, "Y'know, you guys can keep it, actually."

"Oh, we couldn't," Leo said, politely.

"No, I insist!" April said, as they all filed out to the tunnels, "I'm just glad you guys liked it so much!"

"Yeah! Even Raph!" Mikey smirked.

"Mikey…"

"Raph likes a little girl movie," Mikey said, impishly, his grin widening.

"So do _you,_ doofus," Raph glowered.

April giggled, and Raph felt his face heat slightly.

Later that night, lying on his shell and staring at the ceiling trying to sleep, Raph couldn't help but replay that scene over and over in his mind…that song, the mountain one…picturing the pain and sadness on Elsa's face - and then the joy and freedom she felt when she finally accepted who she was…when she was finally able to take that "swirling storm inside" and…well, let it go.

And a few days later, he knew he wasn't the only one who had been thinking about it.

It had been a lousy day - real lousy. Training had gone badly - three-on-one, which he always hated. It just didn't seem fair, and having all his brothers gang up on him at once always pissed him off, especially when he couldn't successfully fend them off and ended up being taken to the mat like he had that morning. Then perfect Leo had to be all _"__Ehhh_, your form this, your stance that, _ehhhh__"_ until Raph wanted to haul off and clock him. Then the TV was on the fritz, and Don said it was the dish, and he wouldn't be able to fix it until dark, and then once dark came, he never even got around to it because he had to fix something on the stupid perimeter defense instead and said "TV is a non-essential, Raphael," in that nasal, condescending voice of his, so he missed the fight and there weren't even any decent bad guys to whale on that night.

Raph was venting his spleen on the punching bag, picturing Leo's face, when Mikey bounded in cheerfully, and already Raph felt his hackles rising.

"Not now, Mi -

"Hey, Raphie!"

"Don't _call_ me th -

"So I was talking to Don about putting a pizza oven in the Shellraiser, and -

"_Mike!"_

" - he said that it was 'impractical,' pssh! As _if,_ and -

"_Damnit_, can you _please _just _go aw - _

But this time, it was Raph who interrupted himself, the abrupt image of that angry, sullen snow monster popping into his head unbidden. He stood there panting, covered in sweat, the bag still swaying gently on its chain, and when he looked up, Mike was already scrutinizing him curiously, his head cocked to the side, like a puppy.

"You…kinda wanna be alone right now, don't you?" he said.

Raph blinked in surprise. His voice was calm and quiet - more so than Raph suspected Mikey knew how to be.

"Um. Yeah."

Mike grinned. "Cool. Talk to ya later, then."

"Oh. Okay," Raph said, totally nonplussed, "Uh, thanks."

Mike just nodded, still smiling, turned on his heel and left. But from the hallway, Raph could hear him humming "Do You Wanna Build a Snowman."

He took another few swings at the bag, but found he didn't have the same rage behind it…in fact, he even began to enjoy himself, the sound of leather on leather and the hiss of his breath comforting and familiar, as the knots of stress seeped out of his shoulders for the first time that day.

**A/N: I have never once written anything 2k14 verse. Mostly cuz I don't like it. :ducks flying objects: But the way the fandom has expanded it, it's growing on me. And when I saw this prompt - I knew it had to be huge, burly, bara turtles watching. Partly inspired by that viral video of Marines flipping out watching Frozen. If you haven't seen it yet, you need to google that shit, it's awesome. xD **


	46. 046 Seeing Red

**2k3 Verse. **

**046\. Seeing Red**

"You…_YOU!__"_

"Raph - _wait!__" _

Raph's chest heaved with every breath - each muscle of his face was locked into a painful grimace of rage. His pulse pounded in his ears, and he ground his teeth against the shudder of bloodlust that went down his spine. He felt his arm ripped nearly out of its socket, and letting out a roar of rage, whipped his head around to see Leo's shocked face close to his, putting him in an arm lock.

"_Raphael!_ Have you lost your _mind?!__"_

"You okay, Mikey?"

That was Don…he was kneeling down to help Mike up off the floor.

"What the hell were you _thinking,_ Raph?!" Don shouted, and something in his disturbed, fearful tone of voice finally cut through the red fog, and Raph noticed his right hand was aching, and when he looked at it, he realized he was squeezing the life out of a metal pipe he didn't remember picking up, and cowering in front of him, arms raised defensively, baby blue eyes wide in horror, was Michelangelo.

The pipe made a loud clatter as it hit the floor, and Leo released him from the arm lock. Raph's jaw fell open, and he held his hands up in front of his face, looking at them like they were aliens, like they were traitors.

"Leo…"

Leonardo just looked at him like…

Like the way the humans looked at them.

Like he was a freak.

"Mikey, I…I…"

He looked up into his father's eyes, and even through his implacable calm, he could see the alarm written there. Don was simply gawking at him like he was a monster.

Maybe he was.

"Ah, my son," Master Splinter said, and Raph could hear the disappointment seeping through his concern, shame sweeping over him and consuming him, like a hot wave of lava.

"Rage is a monster that will destroy you from within."

_I _am_ a monster. Even sensei thinks so. _

"Raphael - a true warrior finds balance in all things."

"Master Splinter" he tried, "I…I…I gotta get some air!"

He turned on his heel and fled, heedless of his brothers, recklessly ignoring his father, knowing if he didn't see the sky, didn't breathe fresh air, his heart would hammer clean through his plastron and as he ran, every footfall shot a spike of self-loathing through his guts.

_What is wrong with me?! _

**Based on 2k3, s1ep04, "Meet Casey Jones" where Raph almost straight-up murders Mikey with a metal pipe. Y'know - FOR KIDS. **


	47. 047 Pain

047\. Pain

"What is pain?"

"Pain is weakness leaving the body, sensei."

"What is pain?"

"Pain is an impulse, a communication between the brain and the body, intended to warn us of danger, injury, or illness. When nerve endings encounter a damaging stimuli, electric signals are relayed to the - "

"What is pain?"

"Pfft. Ask Mikey. _He__'__s_ a pain."

"What. Is. Pain?"

"…I dunno. Pain is…nothing. It isn't _real._ It's just a feeling. It's all in your head."

"What is pain?"

"…being lonely."

Their individual audiences concluded, Splinter called them all back into the room. He sat on a _zafu,_ with an unlit candle, a book of matches, a bowl of water mixed with vinegar, and five small white bundles before him. They knelt obediently and waited for him to speak.

"To the ninja - pain is not a stranger, to be greeted with shock and fear. Pain is a guest, to be treated with respect - a familiar friend, who walks at your side. An ally, who keeps you alert. A teacher, who keeps you humble. A companion in times of loneliness. A reward, for hard work worth doing. Pain shows us an opportunity to grow. It is a challenge, prompting us to face and conquer our fears. An offering, to those we truly love. And a comfort in times of trouble - because it is _pain_ that reminds us we are still alive."

Sensei struck a match, lit the candle before him, and took a deep breath, focusing his chi. His eyes soft and focused, he slowly stretched out his claw and held his palm just at the tip of the flame. He calmly watched as the flame kissed his flesh, forcing himself to breathe evenly, tension increasingly creeping up his arm.

_Hello, old friend._

Just as the scent of burning hair reached his nose, he withdrew it just as calmly, and gently lowered his hand into the bowl of water waiting next to him. He closed his eyes and took another slow, deep breath, feeling it throb. He could sense the frisson of alarm that spread through his sons, subtly changing the quality of the air.

"…How long do we have to do it?" Michelangelo finally asked, nervously.

"Long enough to greet your pain as a friend," Splinter replied, "It is not a competition."

Withdrawing his hand from the vinegar water, Splinter took one of the clean rolls of bandages he had set out, and lightly bound his burn. He had carefully focused his chi so that only a small red mark was left.

"I was kinda hoping I could greet my pain like a pen-pal," Mikey muttered, "Or like, a distant cousin, maybe."

Don let out a little involuntary snort, but Leo gave him the "don't encourage him" scowl, and he studied the floor again, guiltily.

Without reply, Splinter carefully took the bowl and the candle, and rotated them on the table, so they swapped places. He then sat back on the _zafu, _placed his hands on his knees, and waited.

"When you are ready."

Later that night, Leo and Raph took turns grimacing and scowling as they set the table for dinner. Certain movements - like, say, picking a plate up out of the cabinet and setting it down on the table - made their new burns throb. Don "tsk'd" in annoyance as he set his pencil down for the umpeenth time, and fidgeted with his bandages. Mikey had already removed his when he was cooking, and was now sitting on the couch with a Sharpie, concentrating as he doodled…

"What are you doing?" Don asked, in amusement.

"Nothing," Mike said, hastily, with the nervous of air of someone being caught.

Intrigued, Raph walked over, and gripped Mikey's wrist.

"Are you serious?" he scowled, "A stick figure?!"

Indeed, Mikey had circled his burn mark, and then given it a stickly body, arms, legs, and a jaunty hat.

"His _name_ is Enriqué," Mike said, with a sullen little pout, "And he's my _friend.__" _

Don laughed aloud.

"I think that might be a little too literal, Mikey," Leo said, smiling warmly as he finished laying out the knives and forks.

"Hey, you got your pain, I got mine," Mike said, with a lofty air of wisdom.

From his place in the dojo, Splinter listened to his children chatting and laughing together. He looked down at his own palm, slowly opened and closed his hand, and smiled to himself.

_Hello, Enriqué._


	48. 048 Leadership

048\. Leadership

They didn't really know what it was he did until he wasn't doing it anymore.

Day after day, sunrise to sunset, the three of them were free to do whatever it was they wanted.

And they didn't want to do anything.

All Raph wanted to do was sit there and wait for him to wake up, and when that didn't work, all he wanted was to be alone but when he was alone he couldn't stand that, so he tried to spend time with his other brothers, or with Casey and April, and when he found he couldn't stand that either, he trudged back to the bathroom and stared at Leo's still, slack face.

All Don wanted to do was shut himself up in the barn and keep his hands busy, always busy, because if he stopped, even for just one moment, he had to actually think about what they had lost, and the last thing he said to him, and wonder how everything could possibly have gotten so awful so _fast_ and what he could have done to prevent it, and that was a dark road best left untraveled, so he worked on futile pointless projects until he was so exhausted he knew he could fall instantly, reliably asleep and enjoy the brief oblivion.

Mikey always chafed against structure before: Time for training. Time for homework. Time for chores. Time to patrol. Time for bed. Now, all he had was time. He slacked off, watched TV, played video games, ate too much junk food. But when nobody was there to tell him to knock it off, to buckle down and get serious - it lost its flavor, like chewing gum. So he started doing the things that needed to be done - flipping the laundry for Casey and April, cooking for everybody, feeding the chickens and collecting the eggs. When that went unnoticed as well, he tried to get some attention, clinging to the nearest arm like a limpet, asking questions, needling, even being deliberately annoying because getting scolded was at least something. But inevitably, everyone was too tired and sad and caught up in their own gray, ghostly drifting to deal with him. So he drifted back to haunt the television and the cycle began anew.

When Leo finally woke up, it was like a Deux Ex Machina - finally, the person who Knew What To Do was back, and he would do what he did best, and Tell Them What To Do.

And they watched those hopes dashed, as Leo struggled, day after day, to stand under his own power. To walk up and down stairs. To speak for more than a few minutes without pain. To grit his teeth and wait for the next dose of pain meds. To get out of bed and to the bathroom at night without having to wake somebody up for help.

To deal with the staggering, hopeless conviction that they had failed, that New York was gone for good, that Splinter was probably gone forever, and that even here, they were still not safe.

And still - as always - Leo fought.

Because like any good leader, he would not ask them to walk through Hell unless he had already blazed the trail.

And when he finally uttered those five words:

"It's time to go back."

They finally knew what it was that he did.

**A/N: Sorry for the delays in posting and replying to reviews everybody - moving out of the awful buggy apartment again -_-; That was quick. So I've had spotty internet access. Anyway, love y'all! And I won't leave you hanging on Best Selves forever, either. **


	49. 049 Brainiac

**049\. Brainiac**

"Hey, Donnie," Leo said, his voice soft and gentle, "It's time for breakfast."

Don's head turned slowly, as though he were underwater.

"Mm? Oh…hey. Is it…food?"

Leo cringed inwardly, but forced himself to smile.

"Yep. Time for food."

Don nodded, slowly, a slight frown on his features.

"There was something…I needed to…do," he said, slowly, "Let me just…"

He raised his hand and began tracing invisible numbers in the air with a finger.

"I'm sure you'll think of it," Leo said, warmly, "But it's time for breakfast now, so why don't you put that away?"

Don looked at Leo suspiciously.

"Prove you're real."

"Remember what Mr. O'Neil told us? About grounding?"

Don nodded slowly.

"Your mask is blue. And…I hear the clock ticking. And the sheets are…warm. And itchy. And…"

Don took a big whiff through his nose.

"Oatmeal?"

"Oatmeal," Leo smiled, "With raisins. I'm real. And it's time for breakfast."

There was no clock in Donnie's room. Leo added that to the list of things to tell Mr. O'Neil.

Don's shook his head slowly.

"I _hate_ this," he said, sadly.

Leo's chest ached, like his soul was battering its fists on his rib cage, like it was an actual cage…but he forced his face to stay calm and impassive.

"I know, Dee. Here."

He sat next to him on the bed and put the tray in Donnie's lap.

"Can't I just…take a little break from the meds? Just for a day?"

"That's not how the medication works, Don."

"I miss _thinking.__" _

Leo sighed.

When Donnie told them he was working on decrypting code from the Kraang sphere, they had no reason not to believe him. When he insisted the work he was doing was critical to the salvation of the world, it was par for the course, as far as they were concerned. Saving the world with his brain was pretty much what Donatello did.

But gradually, things made less and less sense. The Kraang sphere didn't seem to be lighting up or making noise, but he insisted he was receiving transmissions near-constantly. He demanded copies of each day's newspaper, clipping out certain words and glueing them together in new orders, pasting them directly onto the walls of his lab. He had always been a bit fussy with his food, but now there were strange new rules - nothing green could touch anything else on the plate. Everything had to be in multiples of four. Mikey learned to cut his sandwich into four equal parts.

Then came the accusations. Raph was trying to undermine his work because he was being mind-controlled by the Kraang. Leo kept trying to get him to sleep because that's when he would sneak into the lab and undo all of his work. April was in mortal danger because Casey wasn't really Casey, but a Casey clone, created in a laboratory by the CIA for the express purpose of spying on them. Attempts to refute these claims would send Don scurrying to his marker board, writing line after line of illegible equations as "proof," almost faster than he could speak.

Despite this, he was incredibly prolific. New inventions materialized in a single day, improvements to the Shellraiser were constantly ongoing…his "Idea" journal was overflowing, filled with page and pages of scribbled concepts, schematics. At the beginning, it said things like, "Kevlar for shell? fireproofing spray. Gyroscopic implant, cyborg, improve balance?" By the end they said things like, "SUICIDE PILL CAN'T LET THEM TAKE ME CIA KNOWS HIDE APRIL SHE KNOWS TOO MUCH."

One day, a terrified Raph had called Leo's name, and he instantly knew it was about Donnie, and he equally knew that as long as he lived, he never wanted to hear Raph say his name with that kind of fear in his voice - never again. He came running into the room to find Raph holding back a struggling Don while Mikey tearfully pried a bloody pair of scissors out of his fist one finger at a time, Don still trying to dig into his own arm, ranting that they didn't understand, if he didn't remove the tracking chip, the Triceratons would destroy them from space with mass drivers.

That was the day he finally gave in, took April's advice, and asked Mr. O'Neil about the meds.

Donnie's brain was so much a part of him - it was uniquely cruel that it would betray him this way; and even crueler that the medication Mr. O'Neil had recommended had such unpleasant side effects. He struggled to stay focused, struggled to put sentences together. Everything he did was slow, sluggish, like moving through molasses. He had no interest in anything - not even April.

"It's a process. It's not an exact science. It takes time. We'll try adjusting his levels. There's another drug we could try."

Leo had become accustomed to the platitudes from Mr. O'Neil. He knew he was a research psychologist, not a practicing psychiatrist - knew that he was trying his best, knew he had nowhere else to turn; but his best wasn't good enough, and he hated him for it, even though it was completely irrational and unfair.

Well, at least he wasn't trying to dig invisible objects out of his body anymore.

"I miss _thinking,_ Leo," Don said, his voice flat and tired, "I miss being me."

"You're still _you,_ Donnie," Leo said, firmly, "You're more you now than you were before."

"Can't I just…take a little break from the meds? Just for a day?"

"No, Donnie," Leo repeated, gently, "That's not how the medication works."

"Oh," Don said, meekly, "Okay."

He looked down at his lap in surprise.

"Hey, oatmeal. Is it time for breakfast?"

"Yeah," Leo smiled, "Time for breakfast."

**A/N: With respect to John Nash, and all those who suffer from mental illness. **


	50. 050 Joker

**050\. Joker**

"Nicholson."

"Ohhh come ON, are you _serious?!__" _

"It's the _definitive_ interpretation, Raph!"

"Yeah, if you're a _million_ years old."

"Okay, the movie may be slightly dated, but -

"_Slightly?"_

"_Buuuut,_ the performance absolutely still holds up. It's as fresh today as it was then."

"Denied."

"Okay, who's yours, then?"

"Heath Ledger! You kiddin' me? He was _amazing.__" _

"Pffft, everybody says that."

"No duh, cuz he was _amazing.__" _

"Yes, okay, that was an excellent performance, but that doesn't detract from Nicholson's either. Besides, Nicholson had _subtlety._ Ledger was totally chewing the scenery."

"What the heck does that mean?!"

"Overacting."

"You're out of your mind! Leo, settle this, would you? Which one is better?"

"Cesar Romero."

"WHAT?!" Raph and Don chorused in horrified unison.

"Not everything has to be so grim!dark," Leo replied, lowering his martial arts magazine, "I actually _like_ the Adam West Batman. It's _fun_."

"You would," Raph replied, shaking his head in disgust, "Nerd."

"Mmm," Leo sighed dreamily into the middle distance, suddenly distracted, "Eartha Kitt. _R-r-r-r-rowr.__"_

"Gross. Mikey, come on. You like Ledger's Joker the best, right?"

"Nope."

"Nicholson?"

"Nope!"

"Romero?" Leo asked, hopefully.

"Nope aaaaand nope!"

"So who's your favorite, then?"

"Mark Hamill, Animated Series."

"Oooooo," Raph, Don and Leo chorused together.

"Totally forgot about him," Leo admitted.

"Are we really counting voice actors, though?" Raph asked, wrinkling his nose, "I mean the animators do all the work…"

"Well, he definitely had the best laugh," Donnie admitted, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Gives ya goosebumps," Mikey grinned, "'Specially Batman Beyond, Return of the Joker?"

"Ooo, that arc with Tim Drake," Donnie agreed, excitedly.

"That was messed _up,__"_ Raph agreed, nodding his approval.

"Batman Beyond doesn't get nearly enough respect," Leo swore fervently, lifting his magazine, "There, I said it."

"It was cool how they tied it into JLU in the - "

"The final episode, with Amanda Waller, YES that was RAD!" Mikey grinned, pointing at Donnie emphatically and finishing his sentence for him.

"I just wanna say," Casey said, turning the volume up on the hockey game, "That all four of you are enormous dorks."

"Have," Donnie corrected, _"__Have_ enormous dorks."

Raph snorted and bestowed him with a rare high three.

"_Ewwww,__"_ April said, throwing popcorn back over her head at them, "Can we_ not?__"_

"How 'bout you, April?" Donnie asked, leaning on the back of the couch, "Favorite Joker?"

"Nope," April said, throwing some kernels in her mouth, "I'm a Marvel girl."

"Blasphemy!" Raph said, dismissively.

"Marvel's way more progressive. More diversity, routinely passes the Bechdel test…"

"DC's got Wonder Woman," Donnie pointed out.

"And Black Canary, and Vixen, and plenty of other great heroines," April admitted, "But they've got them parading around in bathing suits. Have you seen the new design for Miss Marvel?"

"You know, I _did_ see that?" Donnie said, animatedly, "It looks really - "

"GAAAAH!"

Casey threw the remote down on the couch in exasperation and reached dramatically towards Raph like a drowning man.

"SPORTS! BEER! WRESTLING! SLIM JIMMMMMS!"

"Okay, tough guy, let's go lift some weights," Raph smirked.

"THANK YOU!"

"Yoink!"

April purloined the remote as soon as Casey stood, and flipped it to Dancing With the Stars.

"Eesh, really?!" Leo cringed.

"_SH-YESS!__"_ Mikey crowed, abandoning his comics and scrabbling up off the floor to take Casey's vacated spot, "I forgot, it's Disney week!"

Leo sighed and returned to his magazine.

"Deeeeeeee? If you love me you'll make us nachooooos," Mikey begged, flopping his head back over the couch to make puppy eyes at Donatello.

"I'm not making you nachos, Mikey."

"Pleeeeeeease?" April begged, flopping her head back, also. Don began to grin involuntarily as their upside-down freckled faces wibbled pleadingly.

"Do you really want nachos, or do you just want me to make them because Mikey wants them?"

"Does it matter?" April asked, fluttering her eyelashes winningly.

Don smirked, rolling his eyes, and walked over to the kitchen.

"_Wh-pssh,__"_ Leo muttered softly, turning a page.

"A-hah, haha, zip it, Adam _Worst.__" _

"Thaaaaaaanks Deeeeeeee," Mikey chorused as he and April tickled each others' palms in triumph and then snuggled together to watch.

**A/N: I had no ideas for this one. -_-; LOL. I know they wanted me to do something crazy with Mikey being a practical joker, and I just felt like "ehhhh it's been done to death," so I decided to do something referencing their upcoming team-up with Batman, and it kind of turned into a directionless, "hanging out in the lair" thing. OH WELL, they can't all be winners. XD Also, holy cow, I'm officially half-way done with this challenge! **


	51. 051 Outcast

**I think I pictured an amalgam of all the universes in my head when I was writing this. Sort of****…future 2k12, where a bunch of stuff from 2k3 and 2k7 happened, maybe? I dunno. Not sure that's even important, just…sayin'. Rated M.**

**051\. Outcast**

**God help the outcasts **

**Hungry from birth**

**Show them the mercy **

**they don't find on earth**

**God help my people**

**the poor and down-trod**

**I thought we all were**

**the children of God**

**God Help the Outcasts, Hunchback of Notre Dame**

Finishing his last "Glory Be," Father Michael Carroll took a deep breath, slid his rosary into his pocket, and checked his watch. Very few people came to confession anymore - not these days. Still - he valued this quiet time to pray and reflect…running a church, even as small as theirs, was a constant headache. Everyone had their own little fiefdom, all the societies and matrons who had been there since time immemorial, all bickering over their patch of turf, who's supposed to read this week, who had brought _store-bought _cookies to the bake sale, which society gets the rec room this Friday - the same twenty die-hard blue-hairs, locked in eternal battle to the death over meaningless minutiae, complaining that their kids never come, and nothing was the way it used to be.

Truth was, word rumbling down from the Archdiocese was that they'd likely be absorbed into Madonna di Guadalupe anyway. The neighborhood hadn't been primarily Italian in a long time, and it made sense that the larger, Spanish-speaking church down the street would be gaining more and more membership, while theirs would be dwindling.

But it was more than a shift in demographics - Mother Church was taking a hit all over America. Nowadays _nothing_ was a sin…everyone was having premarital sex, and watching porn, getting married and divorced and remarried willy nilly, and let's not even_ start_ with all the -

His musings were abruptly cut off and he jumped as the door across from him abruptly opened and slammed shut a bit too loudly.

"Uh. Sorry," said a gruff voice across from him.

"It's alright," Father Mike said, his brow lifting in surprise. He hit the glow button on his watch again, and suppressed a surge of annoyance. Evening confession was from six to eight…this guy had a burning need to confess at seven forty-eight?

"I'm going to miss the beginning of Once Upon a Time," he pouted mentally.

_Oh well. _

He dimmed his watch, took a breath to clear his head, and slid the divider open, leaving only the lattice screen between them. Whoever it was lurched back instinctively into the shadows. Trying not to roll his eyes, Father Mike folded his hands in prayer and waited. As if he was really _burning_ to know which of his parishioners hadn't honored their mother and father this week, or _(gasp!) _had impure thoughts.

"So uh…like, what do I, jus' talk?"

Father Mike shook his head in annoyance. Kids these days. Didn't this young man ever go to CCD? Where were the _parents?! _

"Is this your _first _confession?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess."

His brow lifted in surprise, and his demeanor softened a bit. Well, that _was _unusual. He didn't even recognize the voice, so it's possible he wasn't even a parishioner. It must have taken a lot for this young man to wander in off the street, seeking guidance.

"Are you Catholic?" Father Mike asked.

"Pfft. Shit, no."

Father Mike scowled.

"Uh, sorry…No…sir?" the voice said, nervously, "I'm…I ain't _nothin',_ really."

There was something in the bleakness of that statement, something hungry and fearful and desperately sad in his voice that gave Father Mike pause.

"Please - I dunno what else to do."

Father Mike's eyes darted to the portrait of Jesus on the wall, praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, his mild blue eyes turned dolefully upwards.

"That's alright," Father Mike said, making his voice gentle again, "It's alright. We all start somewhere."

He took a breath, "When you want to start your confession, you say, 'Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.'"

He waited, in silence.

"Are you -

"Yeah, I…"

The young man coughed, and cleared his throat, like he was working up to it. Father Mike huffed impatiently through his nose.

"Okay. Uh. 'Forgive me, Father, for I…'"

The gruff voice trailed off.

"For I…Forgive me Father, for I…"

There was a soft, wet snuffle. It suddenly dawned on Father Mike that the young man had started crying. Instantly, he chastised himself for his jaded demeanor, and found himself leaning forward.

"Forgive me, Father," the young man said, his voice breaking with tears, "For I have s-sinned."

"There, there," Father Mike said, trying to be as reassuring as possible. Poor, burdened soul. "You did the right thing to come here."

The young man just sniffed again.

"What sins did you come to confess?" he prodded, gently.

"I…this is secret, right? Like…whatever you say in here, you can't tell anyone? Like, nobody, not _ever,_ not - "

"My son," Father Mike said, his voice calm and stern, "The confidentiality of confession is _sacrosanct._ Your words are between you and God. That confidence can never be betrayed, not even in a court of law."

"Huh," the young man said, quietly, "Why do you say that?"

"Because it is _true,"_ Father Mike insisted, "I would never -

"No, I mean…why do you call me that? '_My son.'"_

Father Mike shook his head. This poor boy really had never been to church before.

"It is how priests refer to our flock - as our family."

There was a long silence.

"Only one person ever called me that," the young man said, quietly, "I…I still can't tell him. I don't know if I ever will. But I had to tell somebody."

"Well," Father Mike said, "I am here, now. God is here, with us, listening. So. What sins have you come to confess?"

The young man sniffed again, and for a moment there was quiet again. The wooden bench creaked slightly as he shifted his weight.

"I killed a guy."

Father Mike felt his guts turn to ice and he turned to look at the portrait of Jesus on the wall in panic.

_Oh, Lord. No. Oh, let this cup pass from me, Lord._

"You, uh…you there?"

"Yes," Father Michael stammered, "Yes, I…I'm here."

"So, uh," the young man said, his voice shaky again, "I mean I killed people before, y'know, but only when - only when I had absolutely no other choice."

Father Mike' sheart was hammering his chest like a jackhammer. His brain spun, scrambling for a handhold, anything to make this less horrible.

"Are you…were you a…soldier?" he asked, hopefully.

"Uh…I…dunno. Maybe? It's kinda…hard to…"

"My son. Were you in the military or not?" Father Mike said, firmly.

"…Well, no."

"Hm," he said, sternly, "Perhaps you had better start at the beginning."

"Okay. Okay, yeah. So, uh…I was…goin' home. And I see…there's this girl. A workin' girl, y'know? In an alley, and…she's gettin' roughed up real bad."

Father Michael realized he was about to hear the sordid details of a crime - not just any crime - a murder. His stomach lurched and he broke out in a cold sweat, his fingertips trembling.

"The guy, the john, he's…he's bein'…rough. Just…_mean. Mean_ son of a bitch. Poor girl was screamin' and cryin', beggin' him to stop, to just _wait, _just… 'gimme a minute,' she kep' sayin', just 'gimme a minute, it hurts.' And…nobody did nothin'. Her pimp was standin' there, twenty feet away down the alley, didn' do _nothin'."_

He paused.

"Go on," Father Michael prompted against his will, dreading the details to come.

"And then she…she screams, real loud, 'help!' an' he tells her 'shut up!' and he clocks her, just…real good. Right across the jaw. So. Me bein' me…I ain't gonna let that go. So I sneak up real quiet, and I pull him off her. And I give him a nice sock in the jaw, like, 'there ya go, see how _you _like it.' And he goes down like a sack of potatoes. Easy. Never even saw me coming. An' it shoulda ended there. It woulda been okay, even a _good_ thing, y'know? But I look over an' the girl…the girl, I look an'…"

His voice begins to tremble again, but this time it's not from tears.

"She's gotta be like…fuckin' twelve years old. Just a fuckin' kid, a fuckin' - sorry," he suddenly adds.

Father Michael shook his head sorrowfully. "It is alright, my son. Some acts are so profane, they merit some profanity."

Silence again.

"Did you alert the authorities?" Father Michael asked, already knowing the answer, and dreading to hear it.

"….No."

More silence. Father Michael felt the hairs on his neck standing on end.

"I looked back at him on the ground, an'…everything just…went _red."_

The husky rasp in his tone took on an almost carnal quality and a shudder went down the priest's back, pinpricks of sweat stinging his armpits and neck.

"He…he was tryin' to…crawl away," the young man said, some of the hesitation and dampness coming back into his tone, "And…God. I shoulda let him. He was tryin' to run. I coulda just let him run. But I…what I did…I…"

"What did you do?" Father Michael forced himself to say, placing his hand in his pocket and clutching his rosary beads like a lifeline, pressing the fear deep down, begging for strength. He was seated not a foot away from a murderer.

"I…I stabbed him. With my sai."

"You…you sighed?"

There was a muted sound of annoyance.

"My - like a knife. But…not just once."

His voice began to tremble.

"Once I did it once…I couldn't _stop." _

A chill ran down Father Michael's spine, and his fingers ached from squeezing the life out of his rosary beads.

"Somethin' happened to me. Somethin'…_bad._ I did it over and _over,_ like I wanted to _erase_ him, like I just wanted to…God, the _blood,_ you never saw…"

Father Mike crossed himself, and pressed the beads to his lips.

_Jesus, help me. Jesus, help this poor soul. _

"I don't think I _ever_ woulda stopped, but the girl, she…she grabbed me, and I turned and I snarled at her, like…I think maybe even I woulda hurt her, too," he confessed, his voice cracking, heavy with shame, "But she was…c-cryin' and she says, _'Stop._ Please _stop,_ Mister, he's…he's already _d-ead.'" _

His voice strangled on the last word, and the shadow hunched forward.

"Mister," he choked, "She called me…_'Mister.'" _

For a while Father Mike just listened to the tortured, stifled sobbing of the man across from him.

"I knew people was ugly," he said, eventually, "I knew, but…this…what I done…I'm ugly, too.Maybe even uglier…maybe the ugliest."

"My…my son," Father Mike finally stammered, trying to keep his voice from trembling, "You need to call the authorities."

"Yeah, I did - after, I did that," the young man said, hastily, "I called 911 and then I hid and waited, so I made sure the girl…she got picked up, an' she told them what happened, and, uh…she told 'em what I look like…"

Father Mike's eyes went round as the young man let out a wry chuckle.

"_Exactly _what I look like. But, uh…yeah, I don't think they're gonna be lookin' for me."

Father Mike shook his head slowly. Clearly this young man was in deep denial.

"My son…of _course_ they will," he insisted, "It will go much better for you if you turn yourself in, and tell your side of the story. You need to turn yourself over to the police, and - "

"You…you don't understand," the young man said fervently, "I - I can't."

"My son," Father Mike said, sternly, "You have committed a very serious crime…and a grievous sin. You can not truly repent until you take the steps to make it right. You must turn yourself over to the police. I will even go with you, right now, and stay with you every step of the way."

A long silence.

"Yeaaaah," the young man sighed, wearily, "This…was a mistake."

"My son - "

"Thanks. I, uh…I appreciate it. But…yer not the Father I need to be tellin' this to."

He heard the creak of wood as the young man stood, and his bulk blocked out all the dim light from the other side of the confessional. He was massive. He paused, before opening the door.

"So uh…m'I…goin' ta…y'know. Hell?"

Father Michael shook his head, slowly.

"Only God can judge you," he finally said, "But I must tell you, my son, that what you have done…it will take a _lifetime_ to repent for a sin like this. This burden will stay with you forever, unless you come forward and face what you have done."

"Yeah," the young man said, quietly, "Yeah. Yer right. Thanks. I will."

"You're going to turn yourself in?"

"Kinda," the young man said, "I'm…gonna do what I shoulda done from the beginning. I'm gonna go talk to my father."

Well, it was a start…perhaps his father would guide him to turn himself in…

The door opened, and Father Michael was torn - on the one hand, preserving this young man's privacy was a sacred part of his confession. And yet, on the other hand - he had an obligation to alert the authorities in a case as _severe_ as this, did he not? At the very least, shouldn't he know what this young man looked like, in case he came skulking around the church? He leaned forward, close to the screen, but all he could see was a glimpse of his green shirt before the door closed and cast him into darkness again.


	52. 052 Hothead

OMG I'm finally updating this! I know, I've been gone from fanfic dot net for a while now, but I've been doing most of my writing on Tumblr these days. I'm hoping to finish out this list now, though! I originally wrote this drabble for LeoRai week, but it also satisfies this prompt.

Entirely SFW. A little blood/wound grossness.

"Ow! That_ hurts!" _

"Well if you stayed still, it wouldn't hurt so much!" Karai snapped.

Leo was still confined to bed rest from his injury, but it seemed he was on the mend, enough so that Donnie felt comfortable depositing him on the couch, and going over to April's for a "study date." She was busy prepping for her SAT's, and of course, Donnie was only too happy to help her review - however, their "study date" was now a "study hang-out," since Casey had felt the sudden and urgent need for SAT prep, even though as far as any of them knew, he had no plans to go to college.

Don had left specific instructions, however - either stay in bed, or on the couch, lots of fluids, no picking/scratching at it, and get someone to change the bandages before bed. Since it was Karai who had dealt the blow, she thought it only fair that she be the one to volunteer.

She still maintained it was really Leo's own fault for going easy on her and letting his guard down…apparently the Hamatos didn't spar quite as ruthlessly as the Foot Clan did. At first the guilt and panic was crushing, and she braced herself for flight, sure that the others were about to turn on her, drive her out of their lives for good. But instead they focused immediately on Leo, stopping the bleeding and helping him over to the lab for stitches. She had stood there frozen in the dojo, gaping at the blood on her kunai and the small spray staining the dojo carpet with her stomach turning somersaults, until April had come back, put her arm around her shoulders and reassured her that "accidents happen," and that nobody was mad.

"Well," she amended, "nobody but Raph is mad."

Her new sensei (and…father?) had also reassured her that she fought well, and that it would be good for his sons to face a fiercer, more cunning brand of opponent - that it was important for them to learn from someone who had trained with the Foot.

Still, the guilt didn't assuage fully until Splinter gently led her to the lab, and Leo smiled at her as Don sewed him up, complimenting her on the strike with a sheepish expression.

He was considerably less gracious a few days in - Leo wasn't accustomed to being inactive for such a long time, and it was obviously grating on him. He complained that his stitches were itchy, complained of boredom, couldn't get comfortable - and yet attempts to distract him or make him more comfortable were dismissed as "fussing," and "making a big deal over nothing." It seemed Leo alternated between being childish like Mikey and being a hotheaded grump like Raph…one minute, whining and pouting, the other growling and snapping - and Karai had had just about enough.

"Ow!" Leo complained again. "Stop,_ stop! _It's stuck, quit pulling on it!"

"Of_ course_ I'm pulling on it, how else am I supposed to get it off?" Karai snapped, trying to work the bandage off the sticky, scabby wound. "It has be to changed, Leo!"

Truthfully, she was a little nervous. The wound was uglier than when she'd seen it last, and had a kind of funky odor to it. She assumed the itching he complained about was because it was healing…but now she wasn't so sure.

"It doesn't hurt when Donnie does it," Leo pouted, folding his arms.

"Well Donnie's not here," Karai retorted bluntly. "Now stop complaining, and - "

"OW! No, stop! It's fine, I'm just gonna - "

But what Leo was "just gonna," they wouldn't know, because as he jerked his leg away from her and tried to stand up, he suddenly turned a paler shade of green, and sank back down onto the couch.

"Leo?" Karai asked, nervously.

He shook his head and held a hand up in reply, concentrating very hard on the floor. He licked his lips, and Karai noticed a bead of sweat on his brow.

"Are you…gonna puke?" she asked hesitantly.

Leo slowly shook his head, but the fact that he didn't make a verbal reply only fed Karai's suspicions.

"I think we better take your temperature," she said, rising from the sofa. She returned from Donnie's lab with the thermometer in hand.

"Ah," she demanded, holding it up.

Leo wearily opened his mouth and she set the thermometer under his tongue. She watched him in silence for the two minutes it took the thermometer to work. Leo wasn't complaining or grouching or whining anymore…he was just staring straight ahead very fixedly, like he was concentrating very hard…his eyes appeared glassy.

"He all right?" Raph called abruptly, from the dojo. Karai started - she didn't realize she had an audience.

"Just checking to see if he has a fever," Karai called back.

"And?"

"And I'll tell you," Karai snapped, "as soon as the - "

She was interrupted by the beeping of the thermometer, and she took it from Leo's lips and read it.

"Well," she said, "you're normal. Ninety-eight point four."

"HE'S WHAT?!" Raph bellowed. Karai started, and when she looked down at Leo, his eyes were round and glassy as well.

"Ninety-eight point four?" Karai repeated nervously, "that's actually -

"GIMME THAT," Raph snarled, suddenly appearing beside them. "You read it wrong."

Startled by just how fast Raph could move, the thermometer was yanked out of Karai's hand, so Raph could scowl at it.

"Everything okay?" Mike called, from his bedroom where he was presumably reading comics.

"Come on, Leo," Raph said, tossing the thermometer at Karai and bending to scoop Leo into his arms, bridal style. Karai bobbled the thermometer in her hands and then caught it.

"Noooo," Leo moaned weakly, "Raph, come on, not - "

"Shut up," Raph said, curtly.

Karai blinked nervously. "Ninety-eight point six is supposed to be normal for - "

"For a HUMAN, Karai," Raph snapped, "We're turtles. _MIKE!" _

He turned towards the stairs and bellowed after his little brother.

"MIKEY! Get your shell down here!"

Karai stumbled after Raph to the bathroom, where he laid Leo down in the tub. Leo began shaking, and protesting.

"Raph," he stuttered, "R-raph, I'm okay, don't put - don't do the - "

He hissed as Raph turned on the water, and a uttered a string of curse words that would have been par for the course coming from Raphael, but seemed alarming and foreign coming out of Leo's mouth. Raph tested the water with his hand.

"P-p-p-lease," Leo pleaded, his lips trembling, "it's f-f-f-f-reezing."

Karai stuck her hand in the spray as well - it was actually lukewarm, slightly warmer than the ambient temperature.

"Dudes, what's - uh-oh," Mike said, arriving in the door frame of the bathroom. "Fever?"

"Go get Dad," Raph ordered, "and text Donnie, tell him to come home now. He can bring the others if he wants - they can study here."

Mike was already fishing his phone out as Raph finished talking, and he scampered out of view to go get their father. While Raph was distracted, Leo reached up with trembling fingers and began to fiddle with the temperature knob, his teeth chattering audibly.

"Leo," Karai said nervously, "maybe you shouldn't - "

Absent-mindedly, Raph smacked his hand away.

"C-c-come on!" Leo pleaded, weakly.

"Leave it," Raph ordered brusquely, standing and turning his back to rifle through the medicine cabinet.

"MIKE!" he hollered out the door, holding two bottles. "MIKEY!"

Mikey skidded back into view. "What? Dad's making stinky fever tea."

"Ugggh," Leo groaned from the tub, shuddering. Karai pushed her sleeve back and sat on the edge of the tub, petting his knee, which was the only thing she could reach without getting soaked by the shower spray.

"You got that weird memory thing," Raph demanded. "What does Donnie like best for fever, Acetaminophen? Ibuprofen? Aspirin?"

"Aceta-wha?" Mikey mumbled, chewing on his lip nervously.

Raph grunted his annoyance and held up the bottles in his hand.

"Red, Blue, or Green?" he snapped.

"Uh…Blue label!" Mikey pointed, his baby-blue eyes round. "Definitely blue! Two for a little fever, three for a doozie!"

"Well, it's a doozie," Raph muttered, struggling with the child-proof cap in his huge hands. Finally snorting in frustration, he shoved it at Karai wordlessly, and she quickly popped the cap and took out three pills for him.

"So you guys are what," she said, "cold-blooded?"

She held the pills in her closed fist at Leo's mouth, and then slowly opened her hand. She shivered as his hot tongue swiped over palm, taking the pills. He turned his head upwards and opened his mouth to the shower spray, getting a mouthful to swallow, then groaned again, and rested his head against the tub, his shoulders still trembling with chills.

"No," Raph retorted brusquely, taking the pills back from her and putting the cap back on. "We're…I dunno, something-thermic. Look, you can get the lecture from Don later, okay? We just run colder than humans. He's supposed to be about ninety-three five."

Karai did the mental math, her eyebrows raising slightly. For a human, Leo would have the equivalent of a 103-degree fever.

"I…I didn't know," she mumbled quietly.

"Yeah well," Raph retorted, "now ya do."

They sat next to each other in silence, watching Leo shudder and shiver under the shower, every once in a while, wiping the residual spray from their faces. Gradually, his shivering slowed until it almost ceased.

"Hey, Raph," he muttered, his voice sounding a little more normal without the incessant tooth-chattering, "can I have it a little warmer? Just a little?"

Raph didn't reply but stuck his hand in the spray and contemplated for a minute. He reached over and moved the temperature knob just a hair. After a moment Leo sighed in relief.

"Thanks," he muttered, closing his eyes and resting his head on the side of the tub again.

"Miwa," Splinter said, arriving with a steaming cup of tea, "pardon me, please."

Startled, Karai stood and backed away, lowering the lid and sitting on the toilet where she'd be out of the way. She didn't like being called "Miwa," but given the circumstances, didn't bother correcting him.

"How are you feeling, my son?" Splinter smiled, sitting on the edge of the tub where Karai had sat. "Can you sit up?"

Raph leaned into the tub and helped Leo sit up, getting soaked for his troubles. The spray hit Leo's shell and spattered everywhere, so Raph reached over and switched off the shower head, stopping the drain and letting it fill.

"Hmm," Splinter rumbled in disapproval, as Leo took the cup and and groaned with relief as his fingers curled around the hot ceramic, "His stitches are wet."

"I know," Raph said, "but the fever…"

"Do not drink yet, Leonardo," Splinter said, firmly. "Mi - Karai, may I have that, please?"

Startled, Karai looked down at the thermometer she was still clutching and passed it over. Splinter shook it a few times, and placed it under Leonardo's tongue. To her surprise, he began to hum softly under his breath and stroke Leo's head while they waited. Leo closed his eyes and leaned his head into his father's touch, not quite smiling, but relief and comfort on his features.

Karai had to look away, controlling her breath as a sudden and surprising wave of emotion hit her. She hadn't known that kind of touch since her first nanny, back in Japan, when she was practically still a baby. Hinata. She had left when she got pregnant and started her own family…Karai never saw her again, and the woman after her was efficient and distant, insisting that she was old enough now to behave like a "big girl."

Seeing Leo, nearly an adult, covered in muscles and battle scars, smiling faintly while his father stroked his cheek and hummed to him - it made her eyes sting. She looked up and found Raph staring at her curiously, so she scowled and looked away again.

The thermometer finally beeped, and Splinter took it out and examined.

"Mm," he rumbled in disapproval, "ninety-seven."

"Phew," Raph sighed. "That's actually lower, sensei."

Splinter's furry brow raised in surprise.

"You have quite a fever, my son," he said, leaning forward and placing a kiss on Leo's forehead. Karai looked away hastily. "Drink your tea."

"Haiiii," Leo muttered softly, sounding younger than his years as he took a sip.

"Ahhh," he sighed, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "Warm."

"This is obviously infected," Splinter said, examining the soggy bandages. "Let's try and - "

"Here! I'm here," Donatello panted, barging into the bathroom. "Casey and April are on their way too, but I - phew! I ran ahead. Here, lemme…"

Fluidly, Splinter stepped aside and Donatello knelt down to take a look.

"He was at ninety-eight four," Raph said, anxiously, "so I didn't know what else to do. I gave him…uh, the blue stuff. Blue label. Three of 'em. And - "

"Yyyyyyyep," Don said, gingerly peeling back the wet bandage a tiny bit at a time. "Gunk, funk, and fever. It's definitely infected."

"I didn't wanna get the stitches wet," Raph fretted, "but he did go down to ninety-seven, so - "

"It's okay," Don said, finally working the last of the bandage off. Karai peeked over his shoulder and make a face at the angry red wound, weeping puss between the stitches. "I'm gonna wanna debride this and re-stitch it anyway…and we'll get you on some IV antibiotics, Leo. Drink your tea."

Leo nodded, taking another sip. Don turned to Raph and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"You did good, Raph."

Raph's shoulders suddenly sagged about a foot. He nodded jerkily, and took a shaky breath that got stuck in his throat part way. Karai blinked in surprise - Raph never acted like this.

"Michelangelo," Splinter said, quietly, and Karai turned to see Mikey standing in the doorway, looking uncertain, "Donatello has this well in hand, now. Perhaps you and Raphael could go play some video games?"

"Uh, sure," Mikey said. "Feel better, Leo."

"Mmn," Leo hummed, around the rim of his mug.

"Come on, Raphie."

Raph didn't even protest at the pet name, mopping his face on his forearm as he stomped off after Mikey.

"I will go and prepare your lab," Splinter said, quietly.

"Thanks, sensei," Don said. "Everything for stitches is in the - "

"Gray tackle box," Splinter nodded, as he left, "I know."

"Could you hand me that?" Don said to Karai over his shoulder, pointing at the antibacterial soap on the sink. Karai grabbed the bottle, and handed it to him.

"Thanks," he smiled.

For a moment it was silent as Donnie soaped up his hands, and then, gently began to wash Leo's wound, causing a few quiet grunts and hisses from Leo.

"Ever since the farmhouse," Don said suddenly, "Raph…he doesn't really like it when we're sick. Or hurt."

Karai nodded, but didn't reply.

"He'll be okay," Don said.

He reached into the water, and cupping his hand, began pouring it over Leo's wound. Leo wrinkled his nose in discomfort, but didn't protest.

"And so will you, Leo," Don added, shaking his hand off and standing. "I'm gonna go scrub up and make sure everything's ready."

_"Debride._ That means you're gonna scrape it out, huh?" Leo said, his voice sounding a little uncertain.

Don nodded. "It's gonna suck, but I'll give you a local first."

Leo sighed, and nodded, sounding more like his old self. "Thanks, Donnie."

"Keep an eye on him?" Don directed to Karai. "Just for a sec?"

"Sure," Karai replied, quietly.

Don stepped out of the room and they were alone.

Karai watched in silence as Leo sipped his tea. He looked up at her and grinned a bit.

"I'm not gonna explode or anything," he said.

"I'm sorry," Karai whispered.

"Hm?" Leo's brows furrowed in confusion. "What for?"

"For the…" she nodded at his leg which, she was noting, was angry and red, and was currently weeping some puss and a dark dribble of blood in the wake of Donnie's cleansing.

"It happens," Leo shrugged. "It's not the first time I got sliced up in training and it won't be the last. Raph got me pretty good a few times."

He paused, and looked down shyly. His cheeks were a bit red, though she wasn't sure if that was from the fever.

"Besides," he mumbled, "now I'll have one from you."

"Hm?" her brow knit in confusion.

"A scar," Leo smiled, shyly. "I'll have one from you, now."

He smiled up at her with his ocean-blue eyes and gave her a little wink. Karai huffed a laugh under her breath and shook her head.

_"Baka da yo!"_

Leo just smiled, leaned his head back on the porcelain rim of the tub and closed his eyes, puffing his cheeks out wearily, still clutching his tea.


	53. 053 Drowning

053 Drowning

_"The ship, it swayed, heave ho, heave ho,_

_On the dark and stormy blue,_

_And I held tight to the Captain's might_

_As he pulled up his trews._

_"You haven't slept," heave ho, he said,_

_"In many suns and moons."_

_"Oh, I will sleep when we reach shore,"_

_"And pray we get there soon."_

_He said, "Now hush love, here's your gown."_

_"There's the bed, lantern's down."_

_But I don't want to go to sleep; in all my dreams, I drown."_

_\- In All My Dreams I Drown, The Devil's Carnival_

April let out a loud huff of frustration through her nostrils and kicked the blankets tangled around her legs until they fell off the bed.

Sleep had been difficult for all of them since they came to the farmhouse. They all had their own guilt, loss, and fears to contend with. But the psychic blast she had used against Kraang Prime seemed to have heightened her empathic sensitivity, so in the lonely gray hours, she got to enjoy everyone else's as well, seeping into her awareness like second-hand smoke.

The thickest haze tonight was emanating from the barn…guilt, anxiety, and exhaustion crept slowly from her toes up to her neck. She shuddered as she pulled her coat on over her pajamas and crept downstairs. She yanked her rubber boots on blearily, unbalanced, almost stumbling into the door frame.

The winter cold shocked her awake as she followed the well-trod, dirty path in the snow towards the barn.

Donnie was silhouetted by the single halogen lamp at the desk where he huddled, his new make-shift laboratory. April could hear the rapid scratch of his pencil pause as she closed the door behind her, and then immediately resume. She clomped over in her rubber boots, and stood behind him, waiting.

"I know," Don finally said, "but I can't."

April quietly closed her hand over Donnie's writing hand. He flinched at her touch, and April felt a deep swell of sadness (hers) and an even deeper wrench of shame (his). She gently pried the pencil out of his grip, and set it down.

"It'll be there tomorrow," she whispered quietly.

"I can't sleep," Don insisted.

April took his hand and gently pulled towards the door, but he resisted.

"I…don't _want _to sleep," he admitted.

_Nightmares._

It wasn't so much that she heard him think it, like overhearing him speak; it was more that she immediately knew it, as if it was her own thought. Again she felt the creeping, rising cold, the panicked feeling of not having enough air, of being overwhelmed, overcome -

"Last night," Don whispered, "I dreamt that I went to go check on him. But…instead of taking his pulse and all, I just stared at him. And then I filled the tub. And then I…slid him under the water…and left him there to drown."

April let out a soft, involuntary gasp.

"It's my_ fault,"_ Donnie choked, his voice cracking with suppressed tears. "If we hadn't split up, if I hadn't been so _stubborn _\- "

_"Shhh._ Noooo. No, no, no."

April wrapped her arms around him, and he buried his head in her chest and shook with silent sobs, holding his breath, refusing to make any noise. It should have been awkward, him twitching there between her breasts - everything with them had been awkward lately, since the world started ending and he'd tried to confess to her what she already knew. But it wasn't awkward - he was in too much pain, and she loved him too much to let it be, not now. Not when he needed her.

"You know that isn't true," she whispered.

He didn't reply, but she felt his doubt and shame like a rolling wave.

"It's not true," she insisted firmly. "It wasn't your fault. It isn't _anyone's_ fault. It just…happened that way."

Don sniffed, and sat back out of the hug. She let her arms relax, but kept a hand on his shoulder.

"Some things are just…"

"…beyond our control," she finished, nodding, "that's right."

Donnie nodded wearily. The shame, guilt, and anxiety had dulled to a quiet, gray sadness. She could feel his exhaustion - the eye strain, and a dull ache in her sinuses.

"Come on."

This time, when she pulled on his hand, he followed.


	54. 054 Give Up

054\. Give Up

Leonardo took a deep breath in through his nose, trying to control his breathing, not wanting to betray how exhausted he was in front of Shredder. He could hear his brothers, April, and Casey panting behind him. Drawing himself up to full height, he pointed a katana at Shredder, who sat forward on his throne, gripping the armrests in fury.

"It's over, Shredder. Your men are defeated. It's time to end this."

Shredder's eyes narrowed and his lip curled in a baleful sneer.

"It will never be over until Hamato Yoshi lies _dead_ at my feet!"

"Not gonna happen," Raph snapped.

"Yeah! Master Splinter's _never_ gonna die! Well, like…not _soon. _Okay, I mean, _some_ day I guess, like, he's not _immortal - _"

"Mikey - stop helping," Don muttered wearily, wiping a sheen of sweat from his brow.

"Seriously, what's yer _damage, _Shred-head?!" Mike charged ahead, ignoring Donnie. "You and Master Splinter are supposed to be _bros!"_

"Hamato Yoshi was_ never_ my brother, you simpering imbecile!" Shredder snarled. "He has filled your head with _lies,_ the same as Hamato Yuuta did to - "

Suddenly, he leaned back in his throne, crossing one ankle over his knee and steepling his fingers. He seethed for a moment before straightening his posture to address them again:

"But I am a reasonable man. Perhaps we can resolve this conflict without bloodshed."

Leo's eyes went round, dumbfounded. He glanced to his right to find Raph's emerald eyes narrowed distrustfully. He shook his head ever-so-slightly, rightfully suspicious.

"What's your game, Shredder?"

"No game, turtle. A simple trade. A life…for a life."

Shredder raised a remote and pressed a button. Leo shrank immediately into a defensive crouch, scanning the room for the new threat - but all that happened was that a television on the far wall flickered and came to life to reveal -

"Karai!" Mikey cried.

Leo's heart sank. She was strapped to a chair, blindfolded - her lip was bruised and distended. With a rush of panic he wondered what other injuries she had. He knew she would never be captured without one hell of a fight - but he also knew the Shredder despised even odds. How many of them did it take to bring her down?

"Karai," he whispered.

"Let her go, you creep!" Casey hollered.

"I think not," Shredder replied coldly. "You will deliver Hamato Yoshi to me by this time tomorrow, or I swear to you - she_ will _die."

"You _evil_ son of a - "

"Shredder - _Saki. _That's your _daughter!" _April pleaded, interrupting Raph. "Shen's daughter!"

"Keep the name 'Tang Shen' out of your _filthy gaijin mouth, _child! You know _nothing!" _

But April refused to be cowed, balling her hands into fists, her cheeks red with anger.

"You _raised_ her! You watched her grow up! How can you do this to your own - "

"But she is _not_ my own!" Shredder snapped, his fist crashing furiously on the arm of his throne. "Isn't that what _you _said?"

He pointed a finger at Leonardo, the prongs of his gauntlet quivering with rage. Leo's heart sank even further.

"What you _threw _in my face the _first _time you stole her from me?! So which is it, reptile? Is she mine? Or yours? I am willing to _kill_ her to get to Yoshi. Will you kill her to save him?"

"Leo," Raph muttered at Leo's right, anxiety lacing his voice, "it'll be alright. We'll figure something out. We'll find her, and - "

"It's not a fair trade, Shredder."

Tense silence hung in the air at Leo's words. Saki lounged to one side of his throne, his head cocked contemplatively, glaring spitefully at Leo from the shield of the Kuro Kabuto.

"Go on."

"You offer us a _chūnin_ for the price of a Master? By all rights we should have _your_ head if you demand Yoshi's in trade."

The Shredder let out a hoarse, rasping bark of laughter.

"So you admit you are willing to bargain for the life of your _rodent_ sensei…but you want to haggle over terms? I think not."

"Leo," Donnie hissed, "what are you doing?"

"All I'm asking," Leo said, stepping forward and ignoring Don, "is for an equivalent exchange."

He reached up, slowly removed his swords, and lobbed them ahead of him, so they clattered noisily to the marble, sliding towards Shredder's throne.

"Take me."

_"NO!" _

_"LEO, YOU IDI- "_

"A LIFE FOR A LIFE," he shouted, holding up a hand to silence his family. "A _chūnin_ for a _chūnin." _

Shredder shifted, seeming to contemplate his offer.

"A son," Leo continued, his voice cracking slightly with strain, "for a daughter."

Leo stared into Shredder's eyes, one black as coal, the other milky white, surrounded by scars.

"Agreed."


	55. 055 Last Resort

055\. last resort

I decided to zig instead of zag. ;) Have some Miket. very mildly nsfw, nothing too pr0ny.

It always started with him minding his own sweet business.

This time, he'd been making a sandwich.

_"Ohhhh we put a little mayo, some mayo, some mayo,"_ he sang, bouncing his knees in time as he wielded the butter knife. _"Put a little mayo on mah sandwich nooowwww!"_

Klunk hopped up onto the counter, and Mikey awkwardly positioned himself between Klunk and the baloney.

"Ah ah ah! Hey! Bad kitty! Come on, I'll give you some later. Down._ Klunk!_ Doowwwwn."

Despite Klunk's yowls of protest, Mikey managed to gently nudge her off the counter with an elbow pad, but not before she knocked the ketchup bottle over and sent a fork pinging to the floor. Sighing, Mike told himself he'd grab it later, and returned to his magnum opus.

_"Weeeee put a little mustard, some mustard, some mustard - we put a little mustard on mah - "_

His singing was rudely interrupted as a square of blinding light opened with a loud _BWAN!_ behind him. The mustard went flying out of his hand as he let out a high-pitched shriek.

"You all packed?" Renet asked, grinning and cracking her gum.

"Uhhh…"

Mike found himself tongue-tied again by how pretty she was, and stared dumbly at his half-finished sandwich in reply.

"Hah! Silly! They have food there, like, bluh," Renet laughed, grabbing him by the wrist. "Come on, we're gonna miss the fireworks."

Her slim fingers closed around his wrist, and he felt the very familiar sensation he always had when he was around Renet - a hop-skip in his heart, and a sinking feeling in his gut. He glanced over his shoulder at a confused, hissing Klunk and an abandoned sandwich as he went flying into the light, and the last thing he thought was, "I didn't even leave a note."

To his surprise, he landed in sand. In fact, he landed so hard it ended up scraping his hands, and he hissed as he stood up, trying to brush the grit out of his new scrapes and only finding that made it worse.

"Passports and tickets please," a bored-sounding alien was saying.

He was standing at a nondescript, grayish booth, next to an archway, taking the documents from a long line of various life forms of all shapes, colors, and limb-numbers, checking them, and stamping them. He was wearing one of those universal translator collars the Triceratons had.

"C'mon!" Renet said gleefully, grabbing his wrist again. "We're gonna miss it!"

"Miss, excuse me miss, you need to - "

"Official Time Business! Suck eggs, plubitords!" Renet cried, holding some kind of official-looking badge up and cutting the line. _"Wooooo hooooo!" _

"Miss you can't just - "

"Whoops, _DO_ pardon us!"

Flinging the badge onto the desk, she grabbed a sheaf of papers and flung them over her head laughing. The aliens waiting in line all grumbled and complained loudly in various languages as the bored-looking alien (who was now an angry-looking alien) hastily tried to grab the papers as they fell. Renet grabbed the rubber stamp off his desk, and stamped Mikey square in the forehead before reaching back and throwing it as far back into the line as she could.

"Wuh- Ummm," Mike stammered, looking around anxiously, "hey, maybe we shouldn't - "

"Come on!" she cried with a bubbly laugh, and with that, they were off and running again, feet sinking into the sand.

For the first time, Mike took in his surroundings.

People (people?) of every variety were lounging around in the sand, some wearing clothing, some not, some covered in fur, some in scales, some in skin, some in gelatinous ooze. There were umbrellas, tents, blankets, towels, and coolers all scattered across the huge expanse of sand - even, inexplicably an igloo. (How was there an igloo? Why wasn't it melting?)

Small beings with several heads in purple, orange, and gray ran past them screaming, shooting at each other with water guns. Mike smelled salt air, and realized he could hear the ocean, and in fact, when he looked over to the horizon line, he could see alien creatures wading in the surf. He looked to his left, and saw a boardwalk, complete with games, flashing neon signs in alien languages, and long lines of people walking away with unidentifiable fried food. Beyond that, there were fancy-looking storefronts with impressive gold and silver signs, various live models of all different species turning and preening in the windows, wearing the latest in alien fashion. Towering above all of this were massive sky scrapers, all uniform, with little verandas and patio furniture, overlooking the ocean - a hotel. His eyes followed the buildings all the way up, until -

He gasped, and planted his feet. Renet let out a little noise of surprise as they came to a stop.

There was a dome overhead - almost transparent except for the hazy, iridescent curvature just at the corner of his eye, a tell-tale rainbow sheen to let you know it was there, with a faint hexagonal pattern running through it. And beyond that -

The universe. Stars sparkling, comets streaking, the eerie reddish glow of a dying sun, and there, half in silhouette -

_"Earth?!"_ Michelangelo breathed.

"Yeah!" Renet smiled. "Neat, huh?"

"Renet," Mike whispered, his voice trembling, "what _is_ this?"

"It's the Last Resort!" she said, as if this explained everything.

"No," Mike said, more firmly. "I mean, where the hell are we?!"

"The - Last - Re - Sort," she said, sounding out every syllable like he was an idiot. She laughed lightly, and put her hands on his cheeks.

"Rene-_mmph!" _

He was interrupted as her lips met his. Her tongue slid hot and sweet over his bottom lip - she tasted of bubble gum. The CD in his brain skipped and he put his hands lightly on her shoulders and kissed her back for a moment.

"Come on!" she giggled, breaking the kiss, turning from him, and beginning to shrug out of her already skimpy outfit.

"Uh," he stammered, sure he was turning red as he staggered after her, "what are you doing?"

"It's a beach, silly," she said, stepping out of her bathing suit-outfit-type thing and chucking it at his head. He blinked against the sand that flew with it, and swallowed hard as she laughed and darted away, the perfect globes of her ass cheeks jiggling as she ran.

_When in Rome. _

Mikey loped after her with a dopey grin on his face, taking in the local scenery in shock. At one point Renet kicked some sand onto a blanket as she ran past, and a huge purple blob with like, seventy tentacles raised a few to shriek at her in gibberish.

"Sorry," Mike called, grinning widely as he jogged past.

"Hurry up!" Renet teased over her shoulder, the ocean breeze tossing her beachy blonde hair around. "We gotta get a good seat!"

"Okay!" Mike called, having no idea what he was agreeing to.

Finally Renet seemed to have decided on a spot. She stopped running, created a small circle in the air with her staff, and reaching in, pulled out a blanket. She laid it down on the sand, and flopped down criss-cross applesauce, her bosom jiggling pleasantly as she did.

Still grinning like an idiot, Mikey shucked off his pads and belt and flopped down next to her. Beaming and biting her lip a bit, Renet ripped his mask off his head and kissed him enthusiastically. His head still reeling, Mikey sank into her embrace, feeling off-kilter and a little off-balance, like being drunk. When she pulled away her gum was in his mouth.

_"Vooda! Tookata wa tunga nabok!"_ shouted something behind them. Mikey looked over his shoulder to see an angry looking insect-thing scowling and shaking a weird little claw at them. Next to it, another insect-thing was trying to cover the eyes of a little bug with its claw thingies.

_"Vayana taketa na _pingano,_ woochak!"_ Renet called back, and then made the thumbs-up sign and jabbed it into the apple of her cheek a couple times.

The insects clicked in shock, stood, and hastily escorted their little one away, shooting them what Mikey assumed were dirty looks. Renet just laughed, and cuddled up closer.

"Heh…eh-heh," Mike laughed along nervously. He glanced around, realizing that they were drawing a lot of disapproving attention.

"Ooo! Mikey! Buy me a glow stick!"

"Uh…"

Indeed, as Mikey looked around, the surrounding light had begun to wane from deep red to a murky purple, and alien creatures of various shapes were dragging sleds along the beach, little boxes on skis festooned with various glowing, spinning toys and jewelry. He even recognized some actual glow necklaces, just like they had back on Earth.

_Earth…_

Mikey looked up at the sky again nervously, it was definitely Earth. There was Africa, right there. But…nothing was green. None of the continents were. It was all…brown. And the Sun…that couldn't really be the Sun, right? Why did it look so…off?

"Mikeyyyyy I wanna _glow_ stick!"

"Huh? Oh, uh…"

Mikey realized, with a start, that he didn't have a penny on him.

Suddenly music began to swell from seemingly out of nowhere, and all the various alien creatures on the beach began to cheer and applaud.

"Ooo! Nevermind, it's starting!" Renet squealed gleefully. She wrapped her arm around Mikey's and snuggled close. "We made it just in time!"

Mike glanced surreptitiously down at her boobs, and gulped. His attention was drawn away, however, as various laser lights began to arc across the dome way above them.

"Woah," Mikey breathed, as loud rock music began blaring, and the first of the fireworks went off. "Cool!"

Renet fell onto her back, tugging him down next to her, and she cuddled up to his side. Mikey's face heated, and he reached over his torso to hold her hand. Fireworks danced and embers shimmered and sparkled as they descended harmlessly into the sea. Aliens all around them oo'd and ah'd and applauded. Throughout the show there was narration in some alien language - every once in a while the voice would change and the sound would shift slightly…various languages, Mikey assumed. He kind of wished one of them was English - but then again, that was probably a bit much to hope for.

"Ooo, here it comes!" Renet cried, squeezing his arm.

"What?" Mike asked, grinning back.

"Look!" Renet pointed.

He followed her finger, and with dismay, noticed several detonations on the planet's surface.

"What…what are they…"

Ships…various space ships emerged from the Earth and began racing away from the planet as fast as they could…there were more explosions on the planet's surface. Mikey couldn't tell if they were other launches, or…the explosions began to get bigger. No, that couldn't be right. That wasn't a calculated launch, that was…danger. Something was wrong - very wrong.

Mikey's face slowly fell, as he realized the Sun was changing colors. It was getting dark…and then….intense. Like it was condensing, somehow. Mikey felt his ears pop.

"Renet…"

"Ten! Nine! Eight!" she cried, joyfully.

All around him, aliens began counting down in various languages.

"Renet," Mikey said, shaking her arm, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow, "where did you take me? What is this?! Renet!"

"Three! Two! One! _Wooooooot!" _

Mikey watched in mute horror as the sky fell apart.

Flaming tongues of fire engulfed the fleeing ships, incinerated, instantly - the sky was awash with celestial hell, the searing light of a vengeful God that left nothing in its path, instantly washed away, the Earth a shadow and then gone, as if it had never existed. There was a powerful rumble all around them, colors washing over the dome, nothing between them and annihilation but a glossy soap bubble. Mike felt like throwing up, felt like screaming, felt like holding on, but there was nothing to hold on to -

"Ow! Mikey!" Renet complained. "My hand, you're squeezing too - _ow! Mike!"_

And now, the screaming fires receded, shrinking, retracting, pulling everything into a death spiral, a singularity, a rip in the fabric of the night itself, so dark it was blacker than nothing, inevitable and cruel, sucking everything, light, sound, souls, stars, life, death, meaning, into a vortex of loss.

Mike pressed a hand over his chest, and held his breath, tears sheeting down his cheeks.

"Mike?" Renet was asking. "Hey, Mike? What gives?!"

He barely felt her shaking his shoulder. All around them, people were applauding, standing up, and gathering their belongings. A pleasant-sounding voice gibbered over the loud speakers, and there was another round of polite applause as people began to leave. The music faded away, and all around them Mike could hear children chattering happily in alien tongues, the sound of buzzers and bells from the games along the Boardwalk, could smell food frying, but none of it - none of it was real, was it? Was any of this real? Were they all dead? Where was his family, how could -

_Whap!_

Mike blinked and snapped back to reality, Renet's concerned blue eyes hovering over him, her frizzy blonde hair backlit by the chaos in the sky.

"Mikey, snap out of it," she said, shakily. "You're scaring me!"

"Whuh…where…"

Mike sat up too fast, his head swimming, and Renet scrambled back anxiously.

"Where…the fuck…did you take me?" he whispered, struggling to stay calm.

His voice sounded strange to his own ears - he barely recognized it as his own.

"It's the…Last Resort," Renet whispered back, her blue eyes round and frightened. "It's just…it's just a _place,_ Mikey."

"What_ kind_ of place?"

"It's…a tourist trap. A time bubble near Earth. Well," Renet amended, "at the _end_ of the Earth."

Mike looked back up at the sky, at the black hole staring them down with baleful apathy.

"Why would you bring me here?" he whispered through gritted teeth, the Black Hole staring into him even as he stared back.

"I…thought…" Renet said lamely, twisting her fingers together.

"Why did you do this?" he demanded, finally turning away from the black hole above to look into her eyes. "You thought I'd want to see the Earth destroyed in front of me?! _Again?!" _

"I thought you'd _like_ it!" she protested, her eyes darting nervously between his. "I mean…you_ like_ fireworks."

"Firew - _fireworks?!"_ Mike roared.

Several alien stragglers jumped at the sudden outburst and turned around to look before quickly hastening away. Soon, he and Renet were one of the few couples left lingering on the beach.

"Okay," Renet said, trying to make her voice soothing. "Okay, so…you don't like it. That's okay! We can go somewhere else. We can - "

"Stop," Mike said, holding up a hand. He lunged over his knees, pulled them to his chest, and buried his head there, squeezing his eyes shut. "Just…_stop." _

They sat that way for a minute, Mike trying very hard to slow the beating of his heart. He flinched visibly as Renet's hand landed on his shoulder, and she immediately withdrew it again.

"Mike," Renet tried again, "it's just…it's like, watching a movie right? I mean, it's not like it's happening now. I mean, yes, okay, but not _now_ now, like, not _our_ now, I mean -

_"Renet!" _

Mike ground the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"Renet…I don't think I can _do_ this anymore."

"Do…what?" she asked, twisting her fingers together again.

She was still naked, and Mike tried not to look, tried not to remember how gorgeous she was, how much fun they had together.

"This. Us. I…I need a break."

"What?" Renet breathed, her beautiful blue eyes beginning to well up. Mikey closed his own eyes and looked away, his stomach in knots.

"But…we're already on vacation," Renet lilted, in a soft non sequitur.

"Take me home, Renet."

"You said you'd like it," she said, her voice getting ragged and wet with tears. "I asked you, and you said you wanted to go, you said - "

_"That never happened, Renet!" _Mike cried, spreading his hands wide. "That _never! Fucking! Happened! _Okay?! One minute I was standing there making a sandwich, and then - _BAM,_ it's the Apocalypse, only it's not the Apocalypse, it's - it's freakin' - _Laser Floyd!"_

"Mikey - "

"And I never know when I'm going to see you again, you just _show up_, and I don't know where we're going, and I don't know how long we'll be gone, and_…_my family, I didn't even get to say _goodbye,_ Renet, I - I…"

He ran his hands over his scalp, feeling like he was trying to push his brains back in.

"I can't _do_ this!" his voice cracked.

There was a long, pregnant pause marked only by the sound of the surf.

"But…I like you," Renet warbled. "Like, really, _really_ like you."

Mike squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly feeling totally exhausted and like a total jerk.

"I…I really like you too, Renet," he said wearily. "Just…please take me home."

She sniffed wetly.

"'Kay."

She stood, and he followed shortly after. He didn't bother putting his stuff back on, just carried it in his arms, trying to shake the sand out as they trudged along. Renet didn't bother getting dressed either, but it hardly seemed to matter at this point. She balled up the blanket and stuck it under her arm.

It seemed to take twice as long and three times as much energy walking through the sand in the _opposite_ direction. Renet sniffed periodically and occasionally she dabbed at her face with a corner of the blanket she was carrying.

Mikey wanted to tell her to be careful, not to get sand in her eye - but decided to just stay quiet.

They schlepped past the bored-looking alien, who gave them a surly glare as they passed and hunched protectively over his pile of papers - but Renet just ignored him. Once they were past the gate, she raised her staff, and the same blinding square of light appeared.

"So…I guess…goodbuh-hye, then," Renet gulped, tears sheeting down her face.

Mikey felt like a complete heel. He turned towards her and lifted his hands, opening his mouth to say something, but couldn't think of anything.

"I…I'm really…."

"Just go," she sniffed. "It's okay."

Miserably, Mike nodded. As he passed by he reached up a hand, and kind of awkwardly patted Renet's hair, but that only seemed to make her cry harder, so he slunk off through the square of light, tripped on the bottom of it, and face-planted back into the kitchen, staring morosely at the fork Klunk had knocked over earlier, the wind knocked out of him in more ways than one.

"Mikey? Is that you in there?"

Mike watched as Leonardo's feet came into view.

"I heard a weird…why is the cat on the counter?" he course-corrected, voice heavy with disapproval. "And what are you doing on the kitchen floor? Is that _sand?" _

"Just leave me here to die," he moaned.

There was an awkward silence.

"Um. Okay."

The feet shifted slightly, paused, and then walked away.

"Hey, Doooonnnnn?"

A few seconds and a hushed conversation later, Donnie's feet appeared, followed abruptly by his knees as he squatted down.

"Heeey, champ," he said. "So, Leo mentioned you were lying on the kitchen floor talking about dying, so I just thought maybe I'd check in…y'okay?"

"Yeeeah…"

"'dja hit your head, anything broken?"

"Noooo," Mikey moaned, rolling onto his side and curling into a little ball. "Just my _heart."_

With a horrible sinking feeling, he realized Renet's gum was still in his mouth. His face crumpled a bit, and his eyes began to sting.

"Ohhh I thought I recognized that portal noise," Don said. He let out a little grunt as he sat down on the floor. "You and Renet break up?"

"Yeaaaah."

"I'm sorry," Don said, patting his shoulder sympathetically. "What happened?"

"The Apocalypse. _Again."_

"….oh. That's….rough, buddy."

Mikey sniffed, and rolled over, crawling pathetically into Donnie's arms.

"Awww, c'mere."

He wiped his eyes on Donnie's elbow pad as his big brother shushed him and patted his shoulder.

"Theeeere, there."

Eventually, sated on baloney, Klunk sauntered over, scaled Mikey like a mountain, and curled up on his bridge, settling in with a rumbling purr…and that made it a little better. After a little while, Mikey felt the tremor of new footfalls.

"Hey, Raph," Don said, placidly.

There was a lengthy pause.

"I don't wanna know."

The footfalls receded.

A week passed without further incident.

Mikey drifted through chores, through training, through patrols. The others tried to cheer him up, but to no avail - the Lair was oddly quiet without his boisterous antics and the sound of his laugh. April even invited him over for "girl's night," an evening of nail polish, chick flicks, and all-you-can-eat pizza which usually cheered him right up - but the most enthusiasm he could muster for the pizza was to announce dramatically that "Renet loved pepperoni-and-mushroom," before destroying the eyeliner April had so carefully applied.

"Nothing?" Leo asked, crestfallen, when he came to pick him up.

"Nothing," April whispered. "Not even the tiara."

"But he_ loves_ tiaras," Raph objected.

"Give him time," Don said, quietly. "Broken hearts take a while to heal."

They all looked nervously at their feet at that one, trying not to look at Donnie or April.

Another week later found Mikey sitting on the couch, robotically thumbing the game controller, going through the motions of a game he'd already beat a zillion times.

Raph wandered by and looked over his shoulder.

"Easy mode?" he teased, chucking him on the shoulder. "You goin' soft on us?"

"Yeah," Mike replied, bitterly. "I'm going soft on you, Raph. Better take me out behind the barn and put me out of my misery, before I drag the whole team down."

"…yikes," Raph concluded, and lumbered off.

Mike just shook his head and went back to his game. He was just about to beat the level, when -

_BWAN! _

Mike gasped, throwing the controller aside, wheeling around towards the light -

_"Renet?!" _

"Hi, Mikey!"

She beamed at him with the same beautiful, broad smile on her face, like nothing had happened, like she hadn't a care in the world.

"So, I got some time off! Well, I mean - technically I'm supposed to be studying," she chirped. "Hah! Like _that's_ gonna happen! Fer shure! So I thought maybe - "

_"Renet!" _

He vaulted the back of the couch, pulled her into his arms, nuzzling into her neck, blinking back tears.

"Aww! I'm happy to see you too, baby!"

She gave him a little kiss on the head, and then on the cheek, and then on the lips, humming happily, making his lips tickle.

"Oh! Right," she said, stepping back. "So I've got some time off, and I thought maybe you'd wanna take a little vacay with me? I know this place, it's totally grocking cold, they have a beach, and like, all kindsa aliens go there and stuff, and there's this light show kinda thing and I know you like fireworks, so I was thinking - "

Mikey's face fell as she was talking and he slowly put two and two together - this was the conversation she was talking about. She had just overshot the time.

They were still broken up…she - this Renet - she just didn't know it yet.

"And like, I totally stole Lord Simultaneous's passport, Ell-Oh-Ell, but who cares, it's not like he ever goes anywhere, I don't even know why he…has…one. Mike? Is everything okay?"

He shook his head, briefly, pasting a smile on his face.

"Yeah. Yeah, Ren. I'm just…happy to see you."

"Aww! You cutie! So you wanna?"

Mike swallowed.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. Actually, it sounds great."

"Sweet!" Renet cried, hopping up and down on her toes, her boobs bouncing with excitement. "Ooo! I'm so excited! Let me just pop back in time a bit to pack, and I'll be right back to pick you up."

"Great," Mike said, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Oh, and hey, Ren?"

"Mm? Yeah?"

She turned back to look at him, one foot through the portal already, silhouetted in white light.

"If I do…if I say anything dumb?" Mike said. "I don't mean it. Just…don't listen to me. Okay?"

Renet laughed lightly, leaned forward, and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. She tasted, like always, of bubble gum.

"Oh, sweetie," she giggled, "I never do."

Mike waved as she stepped into the portal, a sad smile on his face as the rectangle closed behind her. He blinked as his eyes readjusted, and he saw Donatello leaning in the lab door, cleaning oil of a socket wrench with a dirty rag as he watched.

"So….are you guys back together? Or…still broken up?"

"Ye-es?" Mikey said, with a shrug.

"Wibbly wobbly?" Don prompted.

"Timey-wimey," Mike nodded.

"Wow," Don said, shaking his head, "time travel _sucks."_

Mike took a deep breath and blew it out through puffed cheeks.

"You have no idea."


	56. 056 In The Storm

IT'S BEEN SO LONG! I finally have an update to my 100 Themes challenge.  
Rated M/nsfw, for mature situations and cussin'. Not pr0n.  
Enjoy!

056\. In The Storm

He knows it's wrong.

It had begun as an accident.

Well…at least for the first couple of seconds.

He landed on her fire escape - _their. _

_Their_ fire escape.

He landed on their fire escape, a jolt of protest twanging in his knees - they never did very well in the cold to begin with, but stormy weather didn't do good things to his joints these days…all those formative years leaping over rooftops. But the hot coffee felt good in his achy hands, and he took a deep whiff, closing his eyes as he pictured the scene about to come:

"_Donnie! You're soaked! Get in here!"_

And then he'd sheepishly hold up the coffee and she'd click her tongue at him and bustle him into the warmth of the apartment and her presence, fussing about finding him a towel and Casey would holler hello at him from the couch but not get up from the game. And he'd be able to sit at their little dining table and sip coffee and just…have a few minutes with her. Just a few minutes where he could pretend.

And it probably wasn't healthy, but nobody could tell him he wasn't allowed to have a friend. And Leo could take his superior looks and Raph could take his snide comments and Mikey could take his sympathetic, lopsided grimace and shove it. Because even if he couldn't be everything to her that he wanted to be, he could be the guy who brought her coffee, the guy she fussed over a little…a guy she loved, in her own way.

Because he knew it was more, really. Even if the rest of them couldn't see it, even if maybe she was afraid to say it out loud…he could see it in the warmth of her smile, the way her hand lingered on his shoulder, the way her eyes lit up when they talked about a book they'd both read.

You didn't treat someone like that unless you wanted them in your life.

Straightening up out of his crouch, already smiling, Don reached a hand out, still clutching the coffee, ready to rap a knuckle on the window pane, when he suddenly squinted curiously, realizing that April's bed was moving.

Not the bed - the sheets. The sheets were -

_Oh God! _

Don hastily ducked back down, putting his shell to the wall, nearly fumbling the coffee and spilling a bit on his thumb. The scalding heat actually felt kind of good, given the chill in the air, and he shivered at the weird mix of sensations as the thunder rumbled.

Well, _this _was awkward.

What now? Did he just…wait for them to finish? That was…unappealing. Head straight home? But the thought of giving up and trudging back to the Lair alone in the rain was misery-inducing.

Don's eyes widened as faint moans began seeping through the window, wending their way through the noisy raindrops to him.

Casey's rough voice murmured something unintelligible and he heard April -

_God! _

He actually did drop one of the coffees, slapping a hand over his mouth, heedless as it tipped over and spilled through the grate of the fire escape, April's sensuous answering moan a tantalizing tease, just barely loud enough to hear through the patter of the rain to make you want to lean in and…

Don found his body doing it before he had even given himself permission - leaning ever so slightly closer, peering around the brick and through the window to see…

And once he saw…he couldn't look away.

And that was where it all went wrong. He should have just left - because a friend would have left. Laughed, shrugged it off, maybe turned a bit red, and beat a hasty retreat.

But he didn't laugh.

And he didn't leave.

The next morning April opened the window to let in the fresh, clean smell after the storm, and found one of her travel mugs that wandered back and forth to the Lair sitting next to her potted plants, speckled with raindrops, and full of ice-cold coffee. She wondered, red-faced, at exactly what point in the evening Don had decided to drop in.

Shaking her head, she took it inside, carried it to the sink, and dumped the contents.

Well. It didn't matter. They were all adults, here. I mean, once April and Casey had moved in together, she was pretty sure the guys put two and two together. What they did in their own home wasn't anyone's business.

Still…she couldn't shake the nagging, irrational feeling of guilt…or more accurately, a kind of dread that she'd accidentally damaged something very precious.

Once, while rearranging things down in the shop, April had set a box of china down on a dresser - only for a moment. She knew full well the dresser was wobbly. But she figured surely it would be fine for the brief moment it took her to sign for the pizza delivery, and of course, it wasn't, and when she knelt on the floor and sifted through the box, she realized her grandmother's serving plate was also in there - the one she always put the turkey on for Thanksgiving.

It had been easy to fix, but there would always be a crack there now, where it had split almost perfectly in half.

Sometimes, even if you fix things, the damage lingers subtly afterwards, making things just a bit weaker than they were before.

She knew she was being irrational, knew it was her life after all, and that Don really shouldn't be dropping by unannounced all the time…but still. She hoped Don was okay.

And…if she was being really honest with herself? She kind of…liked the way he dropped by unannounced.

"Babe?"

April jumped, and turned the faucet off. She'd left the water running.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, Case," April said, smiling as he kissed her forehead. "Just thinking."

"Cool."

Never one to pry much, Casey shuffled past her, took the entire carton of milk out of the fridge, and shuffled back towards the couch and April chewed back the words reminding him to drink out of a glass like an adult human being.

The next morning, Don had a fever, and was excused from training.

He woke several hours later than usual to the sound of his phone, and he was immediately awake when he saw the caller ID.

"'Llo? Uh, hello?"

"Donnie?"

"Oh. April. Hey."

"Hey."

There was a slightly awkward pause.

"So uh…Mikey texted that you were feeling under the weather?"

"Oh, yeah," Donnie said, his nerves jangling a bit. "It's fine. Just a cold."

"You…were out in the rain the other night, weren't you?"

Don froze, not sure what to say. It'd be easy to play it off, just laugh and say 'Yeah, got caught in a downpour on the way home.' He could mentally hear himself rehearsing the words, the casual little laugh to go along with it, but it just wouldn't - come out.

"Don…"

Her voice on the other end of the phone sighed and trailed off.

"I'm gonna come over later and bring you some soup."

"Huh?"

"Soup. Chicken soup."

"Aw, n - you don't have to," he stammered shamefacedly.

"Hey," April said, firmly. "You bring me coffee? I'll bring you soup."

So. She had figured it out. The anxiety melted away a little bit, replaced by embarrassment and regret.

"Listen," he began, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - uh…I know you, uh…"

"Don?" April interrupted. "It's okay. Really."

"It…it is?"

She sighed again.

"I just…_please _take better care of yourself okay?"

"Um. I'll try?"

"You…you're a very special person, Donnie," April said, "and I think about you, and I want you to be…healthy. And _happy. _You're my best friend, and…I think if I didn't have you I'd go crazy." There was a brief silence on the phone. "I _love_ you."

Don swallowed a growing lump in his throat and forced a smile.

"Hello?"

"I'm here," he replied. "April…I want you to be happy, too. I really do."

"Thanks," April said, relief in her voice. "I'm not saying this right, but - "

"You're doing fine," Don interrupted firmly. "And…you're _my _best friend, and…I love you, too."

It was the first time they had said it in those precise words, and they both knew it wasn't really the whole truth, at least not for him. But it was what it had to be, and it was enough.

Yep. Enough. Is what it was.

So April and Casey came by the Lair, and Casey and Raph palled around and made a lot of noise and watched wrestling, and she brought him soup and made him eat it and clucked over him, and it was nice. Normal.

So it was only natural that he return the favor and finally make good on that coffee delivery. But when he knocked on the window, he was surprised to see not April, but Casey's bulky frame making its way over.

Yes. "Surprise" was the feeling. Definitely not disappointment.

"Hey! Uh, I brought -

"Hey, thanks," Casey said, taking one of the coffees, light two sugars, the one he'd intended for her. "April's out. Come on in."

"I…didn't think you drank coffee," Don said, slinking into the apartment unwillingly.

"Yeah, Apes kinda got me into it."

"Ah," Don said, not really knowing what to add.

"Aren't you gonna drink yours?"

"Mm? Oh!" He considered the other cup of coffee in his hand. "Uh…well, is April coming back soon? Because, I guess I could always leave this for her if -

"What was it she said?" Casey said, sitting casually on the footboard of April's - _their._ Of _their_ bed. It creaked under his weight. "About coffee? It's a…somethin' taste."

"Acquired?" Don ventured, suppressing some slight irritation.

Casey snapped his fingers and pointed at Don, a broad grin on his face. "That's the one. '_Acquired taste.'"_ He hoisted his cup in cheers. "Guess I'm acquirin' it."

"Heh," Don chuckled. "So…I'll just leave this on the -

"What are _you_…lookin' to acquire, Donnie?"

Don froze awkwardly, coffee half-way to the table by the window. "Excuse me?"

Casey didn't elaborate. Just watched him and took another slurp off April's coffee.

"I…should go."

"No. You should stay."

Don felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Casey, I don't want to…to…"

He trailed off, but Casey just waited him out. He held his arms out in an exaggerated shrug.

"Don't want to _what_, Donnie?"

"Look, I don't know what you're asking me," Don lied, flatly. "April and I are just friends."

"Yeah, but I'm asking about what you _want, _Donnie," Casey said, his voice dropping deep and quiet. "Not what you _got." _

Don scowled, and straightened up a bit. He wasn't about to be intimidated by some shmuck in a wifebeater and a man bun.

"What I want is irrelevant. April made her choice. I don't claim to _understand_ it," Don added loftily, "but I will respect it. So. If that's all?"

Casey gave him a friendly grin that belied the glint in his eye.

"You know what I think?"

"I couldn't _begin_ to guess," Don returned, oozing disdain.

"It's not even about April anymore. It never was."

"Oh?"

"It's about uh…that Donkey Odie guy. 'Tilting at windmills.' That guy."

"You think I'm infatuated with a mentally unstable 17th century Spaniard?" Don drawled dryly.

Casey put one hand dramatically over his breast and hoisted the coffee aloft.

"_To dreeeeeam the impossible dreeeeam!"_ he sang off-key. "_To baaaang the unbangable broad!" _

"I don't have to listen to this," Don spat, his cheeks heating. He turned to leave.

"I saw you."

Don paused.

"Well I should hope so," he bluffed, turning over his shoulder slightly. "Seeing as I've been standing here talking to you for the past -

"No," Casey said, shaking his head slowly. "The other night. In the storm. I _saw _you."

Don's guts turned to jelly. He tried to be cool, but he couldn't keep a poker face, he never could, everyone could always read him like a book oh God -

"And this wasn't just a little 'oopsie,' was it Donnie? Because you didn't just turn around and leave, now did you?"

Don tried to swallow, but he had no spit.

"Casey, that was…I didn't -

Don cut himself off again, taking an involuntary step backwards as Casey casually stood and sauntered closer.

"See, that's how I know I'm right," Casey said, closing the distance way too quickly. He clapped a hand on Don's shoulder, and leaned in close. "What you want isn't April. What you want is your nose pressed up against the glass, forever - close enough to touch, but never actually _touching._ Right? Because fantasy is perfect and it lasts forever, and real life is just so damned _disappointing_."

His voice was ragged and soft in Don's ear, and it sent goosebumps down his neck. He wanted to protest, to argue, but his breath hitched in his throat, and his eyes began to water as the truth of Casey's words sank home.

"You want her because you know you can't have her," Casey continued, relentlessly. "And if you could have her? It'd be ruined for you. You'd find _some_ way to ruin it, I guaran-fucking-tee it."

Don bit his lip and held his breath. He knew he couldn't hide the tears but he would be damned if he'd give Casey the satisfaction of blubbering in front of him.

"And you know how I know that?" Casey asked, crouching down to look Don in the eye. He tried to look away, but Casey just leaned the other way, eyes still searching his. "Huh? You know how I know that, Donnie boy?"

Don didn't answer. Just stared at the baseboard of April's bedroom - _their. Their_ bedroom, trying not to breathe and waiting for him to stop.

"Because I'm doing the exact same thing."

Don's brow furrowed, and when he looked over he was shocked to see Casey's own eyes glazed with unshed tears. He nodded spitefully, his jaw grit with tension.

"Yeah. That's right! I'm fucking everything up."

He ran his free hand through his hair, pulled out his man bun so his hair fell shaggy by his ears, and resumed his seat at the foot of the bed. The footboard creaked in protest.

"I don't know, man. I drink from the carton and put it back empty, I leave my shit lying around, I do this, I do that. It's all piddly shit though, right? Like it shouldn't even _matter,_ not if you're in love with somebody. But I swear to God, most days I can tell she is hanging by a thread. I mean, she is _barely_ putting up with my dumb ass."

Don tried not to look too cheered by this turn of events.

"I know! Music to your ears, right? Well. Sort-of ears. Speaking of ears, you should fucking _hear _the way we fight, the neighbors sure do. And man oh man, your little angel up on the shelf? She dishes it _right_ back. She can make you feel about two inches tall."

He held up his thumb and forefinger to emphasize.

"One minute we're at each other's throats, just - _mean_. Really hitting below the belt...and then the next minute she's crying. And I just wish I was dead, man, when she cries? God. I wish I was dead. And she doesn't say it, but I know she's thinkin' - couldn't you just be normal? Couldn't you just be a boring guy with a boring job?"

Casey shook his head.

"Sometimes I think that's the only reason she's with me. She just wanted someone normal." He jutted his chin Don's way. "No offense."

"Some taken," Don muttered.

"Just a regular slob, y'know? Just some dumb shit _guy._ And I can't even get that right."

Casey took a long swig off the coffee and grimaced.

"God, this shit is nasty. Look at me. I fucking _hate _coffee, Don. I _hate_ it. Do you get what I'm saying? You think I don't _know_ that I'm not right for her? You think I don't know how _smart_ she is and how _stupid _I am? Or how -

"You're not stup-

"Please," Casey said, holding up a hand and fixing Don with a sad, weary look.

The protest died on Don's lips and he just shrugged, twisting his fingers together. For a moment they just stared at opposite corners of the room in silence.

"You and I…we both know how special she is," Casey finally said, flatly. "We've always known. And you and I - we both know I'm nothing."

"Casey, listen." Don said, hardly believing that this is where the evening had turned and this was what he was about to say. "You're _not _nothing. You…you're great. You're my friend too, and…we've been through a lot together, you and I. And…"

Don trailed off, shaking his head. "I've been a jerk. I should have backed off a long time ago. I know it. It's just…"

"It's just, you can't," Casey said, with a grimace of a smile. "Because it's _her._ And you've gotta try. You gotta at least try."

He looked down at the floor, and shifted his weight. The footboard creaked again.

"And honestly? I didn't say anything before now, because deep down…I don't think she wants you to back off."

"I - huh?" Don stammered, his heart doing a painful little flop in his chest. "Why do you - what makes you…"

"She's different with you, man," Casey said quietly. "You don't scream at each other. She laughs at your jokes, and…look, I see it. We _all_ see it. I think…honestly, I think she sees it too, but she's scared, man."

Casey looked up and gestured vaguely at Don from head to toe.

"I mean, no offense - that is a _lot." _

"Yeah," Don said, dryly. "I'm aware, thanks."

Casey held his hands up in surrender, and slouched back down again. "Jus' sayin'."

Casey made a face, and forced himself to drain the last of the coffee.

"Look. This thing with me an' April…well. I sure as shit know she could do better than me. An' I don't know how much longer she's going to put up with my dumb ass. But…I gotta try, man."

He looked up at Don with a doleful expression on his face. "You know what that's like, yeah?"

Don gave Casey a jerky nod.

"Cool," Casey said, then sniffed, wiping his nose with his thumb, the empty cup still in his grasp. "Cool, cool. Good talk."

Don finally turned for the window and put one foot on the sill.

"Hey Don?"

He turned and looked over his shoulder.

"Don't do it again."

"Oh - no," Don sputtered. "Of course not. Casey, I am _really _sorry, I never meant to -

"I'll tell her," Casey promised, locking eyes with him. "I'll tell her that you stood out there in the rain spying on us."

A chill ran down Don's spine, and he nodded grimly.

"She'll hate me for it," Casey continued grimly, "but she'll hate you too."

He chuckled sadly, and shook his head, staring across the room at a framed watercolor April had done of the farmhouse.

"What a couple'a miserable jerks we are."

"Hm." Don hummed his agreement.

"Hey, close the window, huh?"

Don stepped out and slid it softly shut behind him.

In the hallway, April sat on the floor, one hand pressed over her mouth, cheeks wet, a fresh carton of milk from the bodega around the corner sitting next to her, forgotten.


End file.
